The Weapons and the Men
The Weapons and the Men | |
James Stinson
| Though the beauties of the summer Decked green Erins fertile breast, There was woe and bitter wailing In the valleys of the West. For the presence of the tyrant Cursed the mountain and the glen; And the laggard Frenchman came not With the weapons for our men. | 2. But when autumn browned the cornfields And the leaves upon the trees, You could hear the rising murmur Swell to thunder in the breeze. Eyes that long were dimmed in slavery Flashed with Freedoms light again For the French were in Killala With the weapons for our men! |
| 3. It has come, the day of vengeance That our souls have waited long; Vengeance on the hated tyrant For each dark and bitter wrong. As the mountain fox is hunted Back into his loathsome den, So well scourge the brutal tyrant With our weapons and our men. |
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