English poem
TO IRELAND'S DEAD
by Norah M. Holland (1876–1925)
Ah, golden youths! who leave for evermore Your ports of quiet breath, Turning your prows from Life's familiar shore Forth with adventurous Death.
With that great comrade sailing, side by side, To meet your warrior peers, Whose names have starred the roll of Erin's pride Down all the echoing years.
Your sunlit sails flash for a moment's space, Fade, waver and are gone; But, straining through the mists, our spirits trace A glory lingering on.
Farewell, great fellowship! Sail on, nor mourn Your ports of quiet breath, Your prows with singing and with laughter turn Forth with adventurous Death.