O Thou, who nerved our fathers in days of old.
Grant we, their children, in heart may not grow cold
To fight with courage in this northern land
For what they fought, our own dear native land.
Shall we yield the walls of Derry or Enniskillen's plain,
Where the ashes of our fathers in peaceful sleep remain?
Loud rings the voice of Ulster as she answers proudly: No;
What our fathers won we'll hold, while the Orange Lilies grow!
2. That their ideals, for which they bravely drew the sword,
May still be ours to keep, we will with courage guard;
For we've done all that men can do to placate our ancient foe.
With every' claim we render their demands the greater grow.
We have our last concession given, the last inch which we will yield
Ere we spring to arms to defend our cause; may Heaven be our shield.
For we've decided, come what may, through happiness or woe,
What our fathers won we'll hold, while the Orange Lilies grow.
3. How my heart does thrill with joy, ever since I first have seen
All the fertile plains of Ulster, her hills and valleys green.
And what rapture fills my soul when praises meet are paid
To the manhood of her sons and the beauty of her maids.
O, proud I am of this fair land, the land where I was born;
Where liberty is held most dear, and deceit is held in scorn.
Still a greater pride, a greater joy is mine, because I know
What our fathers won we'll hold, while the Orange Lilies grow.
|
