The Foggy Dew

I passed down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There Ireland's lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum nor no battle drum
Did sound it's dread tattoo
But the Angeles Bell over Liffey's swell
Rang out in the foggy dew
Right proudly high over Dublin town
They hung out their flags of war
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or at Sud-el-Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through
While Britannia's sons with their long range guns
Sailed in from the foggy dew
'Twas England bade our wild geese go
That small nations might be free
And their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves
At the edge of the grey North Sea
Oh had they died by Pearse's side
Or fought with Cathal Brugha
Their graves we would keep where the fenians sleep
By the hills of the foggy dew
But the bravest fell and the solemn bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the spring of the year
And the world did gaze in deep amaze
On those fearless men but few
Who fought the fight so that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew
Who fought the fight so that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew