Stand on the bodies of eight centuries,
Struck dead with horror; for, raised thus, one sees
In Erin, torn, a soul that cannot die,
And that its struggle is Humanity's
Against the fiend, who would give God the lie.

TO ERIN

How help take pride in thee, whose golden hair
Of culture trailed the earth for centuries;
Whose throne was freedom and whose realm was peace;
And, in strange lands, whose joy and only care
Were to spread light, and who, not anywhere
Thy charm made headway, planting liberties,
Didst, then, by stealthy step, or creep on knees,
Sow with the lilies, faster-growing tare!

How help love thee, whose hand, raised to the sun,
Glows rosy, and not red with murder's stain?
The angels kiss it. Force can forge no chain
To drag thee false-ward. Like a holy Nun,
Stigmated, how thy faith grows with thy pain--
Aye, till thy Cross, like Constantine's has won.

THE QUEEN OF BEAUTY

In rapt, roused Erin, who does not behold
A Venus, rising from the sea of tears,
Up to her native, Earth-illuming spheres?
Her hair, long matted, is a flow of gold
Which even the Sun might wear and feel not cold;
And, oh, her heavenly smile at doubts and fears,
As when she, at all depths, raised to her ears,
Shells of her Glory, murmuring, "Be bold!"

Lo! where the green and orange morn unfurls,
See Erin rise. How shine her golden tresses!
They form her crown, for trailing rocks down whirls,
And reaching all the under-sea recesses,
They draw about her brow, the rarest pearls--
Love for what frees and hate for what oppresses!

LIBERTY, THE LIGHT TO PEACE

All hail to those who, through the stormy night,
Make Liberty the light on Erin's coast;
Who, ceaseless, send up sparks; who hold their post
On each and every ledge of Human Right,
Forming a beacon blaze from base to height
Where Erin's hope may steer and land its host.
Look, Human Nature! Where else canst thou boast
To the eternal stars, so grand a sight?

Look! How men there ennoble human kind
By making Liberty the light to Peace!
All other lights are false. Oh! who but sees
In the unconquerable Celtic mind
That, even in Time, there are Eternities--
Love, true to Right, and Will no wrong can bind!

WHY PLAY WITH WORDS, ENGLAND?

Why play with words?