Verse transcribed by M. Galvin, Tintown No 3 Camp:

'Silent and cold thou art now at rest
'Neath the sanctified sod, in the land thou loved best
Thro' tears and thro' sighs we think of the same
That the traitors have placed on Ireland's fair name
Oh! Rory O Connor thy name and thy story
Are engraved in our hearts and crowned there with glory.
Tho' thy pulse has stopped beating thy shade is to-day
With the loved ones who perished that old
Ireland might say
Tho' grim death awaits us we'll have not a sigh
For our own motto is Freedom for that Freedom we'll die
On the green sod of Erin, our life's blood will flow
Until Ireland a nation conquers the foe.'

Quote by Padraig Pearse, transcribed by Patrick Flynn (Clonaslee, Laois), Tinotwn No 3 Camp:

'Ireland unfree shall never be at peace'.

Verse transcribed by P. Bracken, Internee 3362 (Clonaslee, Laois), Hut 12, Tintown Camp:

'Remember me when this you see
Remember me forever
And don't forget the days we spent
in Tintown together'

Verse transcribed by M. Galvin, Hut 5, Tintown No. 3 Camp,

'Keep me in your memory
I dare not ask for more
We may not meet as we have met
When prison life is o'er
Your path and mine may be
In future far apart
Time may bring a change of scenes
But not a change of heart.

Verse by Pádraig Ó Treasaigh (Laois):

'We meet again, the master and the student
The one a sadder but a wiser man, the other still imprudent
But age and youth, have one same thought
That Erin's soul shall ne'er be bought.
Soon may her Freedom's star arise
And soon may be her foe's demise.
Then you and I from fetters free
Shall haste to Leix and Offaly.
But we together shall come again
As free, unfettered, unshackled men.
And then we'll fill and quaff the glass
That ours and Erin's dawn has come at last.'

Note by Jimmie Egan (O'Carroll St, Tullamore), Hut 25, C Company, Rath Camp:

'In your golden chain of friendship, consider me a link (the missing one!)'

Note transcribed by Seoirse MacUistin, Hut 5, Tintown Camp:

The momentous hour is nigh:- tomorrow we begin'

Quote by Terence MacSwiney transcribed by J. Hickey, Monstown, Cork:

'Death for some is in reserve
Before our flag can fly.'