47. By Memory Inspired

BY Memory inspired,

And love of country fired,

The deeds of men I love to dwell upon;

And the patriotic glow

Of my spirits must bestow

A tribute to O’Connell that is gone, boys—gone:

Here’s a memory to the friends that are gone!

In October Ninety-seven—

May his soul find rest in Heaven—

William Orr to execution was led on:

The jury, drunk, agreed

That Irish was his creed;

For perjury and threats drove them on, boys—on:

Here’s the memory of John Mitchell that is gone!

In Ninety-eight—the month July—

The informer’s pay was high;

When Reynolds gave the gallows brave MacCann;

But MacCann was Reynolds’ first—

One could not allay his thirst;

So he brought up Bond and Byrne, that are gone, boys—gone:

Here’s the memory of the friends that are gone!

We saw a nation’s tears

Shed for John and Henry Shears;

Betrayed by Judas, Captain Armstrong;

We may forgive, but yet

We never can forget

The poisoning of Maguire that is gone, boys—gone:

Our high Star and true Apostle that is gone!

How did Lord Edward die?

Like a man, without a sigh;

But he left his handiwork on Major Swan!

But Sirr, with steel-clad breast,

And coward heart at best,

Left us cause to mourn Lord Edward that is gone, boys—gone:

Here’s the memory of our friends that are gone!

September, Eighteen-three,

Closed this cruel history,

When Emmet’s blood the scaffold flowed upon:

Oh, had their spirits been wise,

They might then realise

Their freedom, but we drink to Mitchell that is gone, boys—gone:

Here’s the memory of the friends that are gone!