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When boyhood's fire was in my blood, I read of ancient freemen, Of Greece and Rome who bravely stood; *Three hundred men and **three men. And then I prayed that I yet might see Our fetters rent in twain, And Ireland long a province be A Nation Once Again! Chorus A Nation Once Again, A Nation Once Again! And Ireland, long a province be A Nation Once Again! And from that time through wildest woe That hope has shone a far light; Nor could love's brightest summer glow Outshine the solemn starlight. It seemed to watch above my head, In forum, field and fane; It's angel voice sang round my bed, "A Nation Once Again!" It whispered too, that freedom's ark, And service high and Holy, Would be profaned by feelings dark, And passions vain and lowly. For freedom comes from God's right hand, And needs a Godly train. And righteous men must make our land A Nation Once Again! And as I grew from boy to man, I bent me to that bidding. My spirit of each selfish plan And cruel passion ridding; For thus I hoped someday to aid. Oh can such hope be vain; When my dear country shall be made A Nation Once Again! *The Three Hundred Spartans. **Horatius, Herminius and Lartius. Written by Thomas Davis. |