Ireland.

O we have loved you through cold and rain And pitiless frost, Consuming our offering of blood and of brain Gladly again and again and again, Though it all seemed lost, Ireland, Ireland!

O we will fight, fight on for you till Your anguish is past, The wronged ones righted, the tyrants still.-- Though God has not saved you, yet we will, At the last, at the last, Ireland, Ireland!

O we will love you in warmth and light And the happy day, When you have forgotten the terrible night, Standing proud and beautiful bright For ever and aye, Ireland, Ireland!

TO CHARLES PARNELL.

One thing we praise you for that is past praise-- The dauntless eyes that faced the rain and night, The hand that never wearied in the fight, Till, through the dark's despair, the dawn's delays, It rose, that vision of forgotten days, Ireland, a nation in her right and might, As fearless of the lightning as the Light,-- Freedom, the noon-tide sun that shines and stays! O brave, O pure, O hater of the wrong, (The wrong that is as one with England's name, Tyranny with cant of liberty, and shame With boast of righteousness), to you belong Trust for the hate that blinds our foes like flame, Love for the hope that makes our hearts so strong!