Struggles again and again,
As all proud and free born captives
Must strive with the conqueror's chain.
That, if ever snapped asunder,
Is riveted firm again

The words of an Hebrew exile,
Like to some sweet song's refrain,
That sweetly goeth and cometh
And echoes through heart and brain,
"Be sure that the day is coming
"When Erin shall rise again

"She only of all the nations,
"Since in dust our temple lies,
"Has not our blood on our garments
"Has brought no tears to our eyes,
"He says, they prosper who love us
"Thy Erin at last shall rise."

I waited, watched for the blessing
Promised, oh so long ago,
I looked for the brilliant future
The end of the long drawn woe,
My hopes, with my years, Time the reaper,
Hath laughingly laid them low.

Oh Erin! my mother Erin!
Will "to be" repeat what has been?
Will your sons ever "shoulder to shoulder"