“Foggy Dew” Performed by Marc Gunn
From CD: Happy Songs of Death
Buy MP3: Amazon or iTunes
‘Twas down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
When armed line of marching men
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipes did hum, no battle drum
Did sound their loud tattoo
But the Angelus bell o’er the Liffey’s swell
Rang out through the foggy dew.
Right proudly high over Dublin town
They hung out the flag of war.
For ‘Twas better to die ‘neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through;
While Brittania’s huns with their long range guns
Sailed in through the foggy dew.
O’ the night fell black and the rifles’ crack
Made “Perfidious Abion” reel
Midst the leaden rail, seven tongues of flame
Did shine o’er the lines of steel.
By each shining blade a prayer was said
That to Ireland her sons be true,
And when morning broke still the war flag shook
Out its fold ‘neath the foggy dew
‘Twas England bade our wild geese go
That small nations might be free.
And their lonely graves are by Suvla’s waves
On the fringe of the great North Sea.
Oh had they died by Pearse’s side
Or fought with Cathal Brugha,
Ah their names we’d keep where the Fenians sleep
‘Neath the shroud of the foggy dew.
The bravest fell, and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Watertide
In the springing of the year.
The world did gaze with deep amaze
At fearless men, but few
Who bore the fight that freedom’s light
Might shine through the foggy dew.
Ah, back through the glen I rode again
Myy heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men
Whom I never shall see no more.
And to and fro through dreams I’ll go
I’ll kneel and I’ll pray for you,
For slavery fled, O the glorious dead,
When you fell ‘neath the foggy dew.