Poem by John Banim

* * *

[Note: Air--``As slow our ship its foamy track;'' 
Or, ``The girl I left behind me.'']

As we are men and Irishmen,
Scorn for his scorn'd alliance!
As we are men, and Irishmen,
Unto his threat, defiance!
He would, indeed, think low of us,
Though his taunt hath but belied him,
If, for such taunt, we had not thus
Denied him, and defied him!

But, words are often light as air,
When most they sound a meaning,
And the heart is weak when pride is there,
And young fame is overweening;
And it was amid his flush of fame,
With his soldier--pride unbroken,
The first in glory and in name,
That his words of us were spoken.

And time hath since gone o'er us all,
And vanities as fleeting,
And the chief hath heard our manful call
With a pulse more calmly beating,
And haply look'd at us again,
And wish'd forgotten ever
The biting words, which from brave men
A brother brave would sever!

1. The New Reformation
2. Soggarth Aroon
3. Demand and Supply
4. The Celt’s Paradise. Second Duan
5. More Blood! Cry the Vultures - More Blood!

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