A Nation Once Again

When boyhood's fire was in my blood, I read of ancient freemen, For Greece and Rome who bravely stood, Three hundred men and three men. 'Twas then I sighed for such a lot, And thought, "If I had been there, I'd have been with them, I'd have fought, Nor cried for home and mother."

But now the pride of other lands Inspires no longer swelling breast; I only ask for Irish hands, To do what Irish hands know best. I'll only ask for Irish men, To stand where Erin's sons are brave— To make the nation's rights again, Or perish in her grave.

O! what is rare as a day in June? Then, lads, we'll sing, and shine, and rile, We'll dance beneath the lovely moon, And pledge the brave and free; We'll snap the chains that gall us now, We'll rend the link that binds us fast, And swear with one unconquered vow— That Erin's wrongs be past.

Yes, let us raise the slogan high, And gather round it heart and hand; Though tyrants scowl and traitors cry, We'll free our native land. Let shamrock, harp, and flag combine, The green upon our banner laid; Till each bright star in heaven shall shine, And Ireland's wrongs be paid.

A nation once again! Return, O long-forgotten name, And start the tear, and wake the flame; O! be a nation once again. And, though the cross be rudely reared, And though the altar's lowly made, We'll still be true, and yet be free, And shoulder to shoulder stand.