The Dubliners — Foggy Dew

As down the glen one Easter morn To a city fair rode I Where armed line of marching men In squadrons passed me by No pipes did hum, nor battle drum Did sound its dread tattoo But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey's swell Rang out through the foggy dew Right proudly high over Dublin town They hung out a flag of war 'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar And from the plains of Royal Meath Strong men came hurrying through; While Brittania's huns with their long range guns Sailed in through the foggy dew 'Twas Brittania bade our wild geese go That small nations might be free But their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves Or the shore of the gray North Sea But had they died by Pearse's side Or fought with Cathal Brugha Their names we would keep where the Fenians sleep 'Neath the shroud of the foggy dew The bravest fell, and the solemn bell Rang mournfully and clear For those who died that Easter tide In the springing of the year And the world did gaze in deep amaze At those fearless men, but few Who bore the fight that freedom's light Might shine through the foggy dew


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