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Jasper Coal
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The Foggy Dew
Twas down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum, no battle drum did sound it's loud tattoo
But the Angelus Bells o'er the Liffey swells rang out in the foggy dew
Right proudly high over Dublin town
They Flung out the flag of war
'Twas better to die 'neath that Irish sky
Than at Sulva 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
Their bravest fell and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the
Springing of the year
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While the world did gaze with deep amaze
those fearless men but few
Who bore the fight that the freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew
'Twas England bade our wild geese go,
that 'small nations might be free';
but their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves
on the fringe of the great North Sea.
Ah but had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Collins true
Their names we'd keep where the Fenians sleep,
'neath the hills of the foggy dew.
Back through the glen I rode again my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men whom I'll never see no more
But to and fro in my dreams I go and kneel and pray for you,
For slavery fled, or a rebel dead, when you fell in the foggy dew.
For slavery fled, or a rebel dead, when you fell in the foggy dew.
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