_________________________________________________________________
I Am Fenian
______________________________________________________________
The Bold Fenian Men
Michael Scanlan (1833 – 1917)
See who comes over the red blossomed heather
Their green banners kissing the pure mountain air
Heads erect eyes front, stepping proudly together
Freedom sits throned on each proud spirit there
And down the hill twining, their blessed steel shining
Like rivers of beauty that flow from each glen
From mountain and valley, ’tis Liberty’s rally
Out and make way for the bold Fenian Men!
We’ve men from the Nore, from the Suir and the Shannon
Let tyrants come forth, we’ll bring force against force
Our pen is the sword and our voice is the cannon
Rifle for rifle and horse against horse
We’ve made the foul Saxon yield many a red battlefield
God on our side we will triumph again
Pay them back woe for woe, give them back blow for blow
Out and make way for the bold Fenian Men!
Side by side for the cause have our forefathers battled
Our hills never echoed the tread of a slave
In many’s the field where the leaden hail rattled
Through the red gap of glory they march’d to their grave
And those who inherit their name and their spirit
Will march ‘neath the banner of Liberty then
All who love foreign law, native or Saxon
Must out and make way for the bold Fenian Men!
______________________________________________________________
Erin, I’d blush to be born of Thee.
Mary Jane O’Donovan Rossa
Fairest thou art, O dear land by the wave,
Fairest and fruitful, but still, still a slave;
Outcasts thy children, a by-word thy name,
The manhood of nations may laugh at thy shame.
Only I know in thy soul burns strong
The will and the hope for the downfall of wrong;
Only I know thou hast vowed to be free,
Erin, I’d blush to be born of thee !
Thy meed is contempt from the peoples free-born,
Thy meed from thy mistress is insult and scorn,
The fate of the slave and the exile to share,
And thy meed from the Heavens is chains while thou’lt bear.
Only I know in thy soul burns strong
The will and the hope to avenge this great wrong;
Only I know thou hast vowed to be free,
Erin, I’d blush to be born of thee !
Fruitful thou art, but for strangers the store
That goldens thy bosom and silvers thy shore;
Fair — would thy fairness, round which Ocean raves,
E’en make me content to be herded with slaves?
No, I would fly thee and make me a home
In a country less loved but more free o’er the foam;
Only I know thou hast vowed to be free,
Erin, I’d blush to be born of thee !
Fairest, my land I has thine olden pride waned?
With the ebb of thy race is thy glory fount drained?
No, thou wilt wake, gather in all thy breath
From the winds, for a struggle for triumph or death.
In thy soul now burns deeply and strong,
The power, the will, for the downfall of wrong;
Erin, my land, thou hast vowed to be free,
With pride still thy children claim birth-place in thee!
______________________________________________________________
Willie Wall’s Farewell
Farewell to dear old Ireland
For America I am bound
In this isle for another while
No place for me is found
And though I must roam far away from home
Across the stormy sea
I have hopes in store I’ll return home
Once more more to help this isle to free
So now with a sigh I must bif you all goddbye
And make no more delay
The ships sails are spread before the gale
No longer can I stay
I thought before this in the battlefield
For my country I could stand
But now instead I must earn my bread
Far away from my own dear land
And who’ve I to blame but the man I won’t name
Who would not give us the word
Our country to free from Saxon tyranny
With the rifle pike and sword
So now with a sigh, etc
Under the sun there’s not another one
To equal our own green isle
Can you tell me the reason so many of her sons
Are living in exile?
I will tell you the cause: Tis the Saxons’ laws
That won’t give them room to live
But I hope the day is not far away
When this room to us they must give
So now with a sigh, etc.
it make sme lonesome to think of the past
And of my childhood days
When at the cross after coming home from Mass
We used to meet and join in our play
But all of those young friends are gone
And are scattered all over the earth
In grief and woe they were forced to go
From the land that gave them birth
So now with a sigh, etc.
O fire, mo chroi, must we always be
Exiles all over the earth
To return no more to you, a stor
The land that gave us birth
Oh, no! Oh no! Tis a burning shame
And this cruel thing will not be
For we’ll come back in ships with vengeance on our lips
From the wilds of America
So now with a sigh, etc.
______________________________________________________________