The Foggy Dew - Agghir

The Foggy Dew _ Agghir
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There Armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No fife did hum nor battle drum
Did sound it's dread tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell
Rang out through the foggy dew
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There Armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No fife did hum nor battle drum
Did sound it's dread tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell
Rang out through the foggy dew
Right proudly high over Dublin Town
They hung out the flag of war
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Sulva or Sud El Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through
While Britannia's Huns, with their long range guns
Sailed in through the foggy dew
But the bravest fell, and the requiem 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