As down the glen one Easter morn To a city fair rode I There armed lines of marching men In squadrons passed me by No pipe did hum No battle drum did sound its loud tattoo But the Angelus Bells o'er the Liffey swells Rang out in the foggy dew Right proudly high in Dublin town Hung they out a flag of war 'Twas better to die 'neath that Irish sky Than at Sulva 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 Their bravest fell and the requiem bell Rang mournfully and clear For those who died that Eastertide in the Springing of the year While the world did gaze with deep amaze At those fearless men but few Who bore the fight that freedom's light Might shine through the foggy dew And back through the glen, I rode again And my heart with grief was sore For I parted then with valiant men Whom I never shall see n'more But to and fro in my dreams I go And I kneel and pray for you For slavery fled, O glorious dead When you fell in the foggy dew
This is a good version. It sounds like a track from a western to me. For British troops going out on patrol in bandit country in rural Ireland in 1920.
Favourite version of the song for me.
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men
In squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum
No battle drum did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus Bells o'er the Liffey swells
Rang out in the foggy dew
Right proudly high in Dublin town
Hung they out a flag of war
'Twas better to die 'neath that Irish sky
Than at Sulva 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
Their bravest fell and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the
Springing of the year
While the world did gaze with deep amaze
At those fearless men but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew
And back through the glen, I rode again
And my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men
Whom I never shall see n'more
But to and fro in my dreams I go
And I kneel and pray for you
For slavery fled, O glorious dead
When you fell in the foggy dew
This is a good version. It sounds like a track from a western to me.
For British troops going out on patrol in bandit country in rural Ireland in 1920.
Good twanging !
Banger
dude, this is cool
Justin Barrett brought me here