Black Album

The Foggy Dew

Taws' down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
When Ireland's line of marching men
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its dread tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey's swell
Rang out in the foggy dew.

Right proudly high over Dublin town
They hung out a flag of war.
Taws' better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sud-al-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.

The bravest fell and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died neath that Easter tide
In the springtime of the year.
While the world did gaze with deeper maze
At those fearless men but few.
Who fought their fight
That the freedoms light
Might shine through the foggy dew.

An back through the glen I rode again
And my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men
Whom I never shall see more
But to and through in my dreams I go
And I kneel and pray for you
For slavery fled oh glorious dead
When you fell in the foggy dew.