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We . . . are no petty people. We are one of the great stocks of
Burke; we are read more
We . . . are no petty people. We are one of the great stocks of
Burke; we are the people of Swift, the people of Emmet, the
people of Parnell. We have created most of the modern literature
of this country. We have created the best of its political
intelligence.
Who dare to love their country, and be poor.
Who dare to love their country, and be poor.
When Erin first rose from the dark-swelling flood,
God blessed the green island, he saw it was good.
read more
When Erin first rose from the dark-swelling flood,
God blessed the green island, he saw it was good.
The Emerald of Europe, it sparkled and shone
In the ring of this world, the most precious stone.
The dust of some is Irish earth,
Among their own they rest.
The dust of some is Irish earth,
Among their own they rest.
I can't but say it is an awkward sight
To see one's native land receding through
The read more
I can't but say it is an awkward sight
To see one's native land receding through
The growing waters; it unmans one quite,
Especially when life is rather new.
And nobler is a limited command,
Given by the love of all your native land,
Than a read more
And nobler is a limited command,
Given by the love of all your native land,
Than a successive title, long and dark,
Drawn from the mouldy rolls of Noah's Ark.
Why should Ireland be treated as a geographical fragment of
England . . . Ireland is not a geographical read more
Why should Ireland be treated as a geographical fragment of
England . . . Ireland is not a geographical fragment, but a
nation.
Arm of Erin, prove strong, but be gentle as brave,
And, uplifted to strike, still be ready to save;
read more
Arm of Erin, prove strong, but be gentle as brave,
And, uplifted to strike, still be ready to save;
Not one feeling of vengeance presume to defile
The cause or the men of the Emerald Isle.
When law can stop the blades of grass from growing as they grow;
And when the leaves in Summer-time read more
When law can stop the blades of grass from growing as they grow;
And when the leaves in Summer-time their colour dare not show;
Then will I change the colour too, I wear in my caubeen;
But till that day, plaze God, I'll stick to wearin' o' the Green.