The morning call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1878-1895, 1890-11-23
IREL AND.

Best land of martyr, saint and sage!
BEST land of right and truth!
Though chains enciIce thy fair form,
Unlike in days of youth,
Still through oppressiOn's rifting clouds
The light may yet be seen
OF deeds heroic born to shine
For e'er in golden sheen.
How bright and happy was thy past,
When Patrick's voice divine
Resounded through the balmy air,
Your peoples hearts to Irvine;
When tyrant England's naughty rule
Was far removed from thee,
And peace and plenty blessed thy sons,
Sweet emerald of the sea.
How happy we're thy scenes OF Joy,
On, Erin of the past!
These were thy days OF precious worth;
Oh, God, did they but last,
But peace and freedom winged their flight
To thrive on other soil;
Thy children from their homes trudged forth,
In other cline to toll.
But though misfortune struck the sore,
And thy dear sod was drenched.
By tyrant's strong and cruel hands,
With blood of young lives quenched
Men still were found whose arms and lives
Were spent to save their land:
AS such, O'Neill and brave Sarsfeid
Must e'er our love command.
And Limerick! Famed Limerick!
Must e'er the story tell
How gallant Sarsfeld's Irish hosts
For home and country fell;
How women and e'en children fought
The bloody battle brave,
To stem oppression's onward march
Or sink into the grave.
And yet, o Erin, force has bound
Her chains around thy homesi
And where once smiled the Irish cot,
Now frown proud English domes;
And men and women born to live
In pleasure and content
Now roam the isle without smile,
By hunger worn and bent.
The factory's hum the cattle's low,
The children's playful voice.
And cen the warbler's mer ry note,
But slight thy breast rejoice;
And fields which once cleaned bright with grain,
And homes which shoIe with light,
Have vanished meath a cruel scOurge,
Meath dark expressions blight,
But though proud England, thou hast thrown
DISTINCTIONS foodgate wide.
Hast caused the Irish blood to flow,
Like Fundy's roaring tide;
And though her sons meath letters sink
And in the dust they lie,
To conquer their religion they,
Proud England, you defy.
And they hope soon, with trust in God,
The Fighter OF all wrong,
To see the sun of freedom burst
Through clouds which hid it long,
And Il, ough, proud England. they have been
Your good and faithful tool,
The day is not far distant when
They'll WELD their own Home Rule"
In Gladstone and Parneil. dear isle,
Though hast two champions brave.
Whose head and hand will toll for thee
Until the silent grave
Shall cover up their noble forms,
And shut out from thy sight
True heroes, who In thy just.cause
Worked through thy darkest night.
And through the ages yet to come,
Their memories meier will wane;
They shall be 'shrined in history's tale,
And sung in lyric strain
And in the warm true Irish home
They'll serve q household name:
While brilliant deeds in Ireland's cause
Shall light the book of fame.
Then let us here, with one accord,
On Iroiand's holy day,
L lift cur hearts to God above
And for this country pray
That Justices star and the bright sun
OF spotiess Liberty
May send their lights refulgent Ger
This isle from sea to sea.
And though we live in this bright land.
The glorious and the free,
Our hearts shall e'er espouse thy cause,
Gem island of the sea;
And our one hope, dear Ireland,
Though not thy children bred,
Will be to see thee floating free
The green above the red.
Vallejo, Cal. JOSEPH A. MclNNIs.