Verse by T. P. Duke transcribed by Tomás Ó Dúigh (Clare), Rath Camp:

'The Strike
Act 1
A rush. A cheer. A bursting of doors
with bedboard or with spike
Locks flying in Air, Ah! it's the
Boys in camp have gone on strike
The Guard called out their wind is up
in vain they bawl and shout
but the Boys don't seem to mind them
in groups they walk about.'

Verse transcribed by Paddy Quinn (Kildare), Hut 11, Rath Camp:

'We're getting darn little to eat or drink
We're getting darn to ware
And we're all living wild now here in the clink
On the Curragh of Kildare
The margarine question is being discusted
And our own quarter of bread is now dry
If it is not soon settled our axles
will rust and then sure I'm damned, we must die.

Quote by Eamon De Valera transcribed by Conn Ua Buachalla, Internee 1119, Hut 25, Rath:

'Cuimhnuigadh! Teanga gan saoirse is fearr iona saoirse gan teanga'

Quote from Terence MacSwiney transcribed by Joe Harrington, Internee 3544, Tintown Camp No 3:

'No physical victory can compensate for spiritual surrender'

Verse transcribed by Sean Whelan (Enniscorthy, Wexford), Tintown Camp, 'on the second day of the fight for freedom':

'Oh God! to have fought, to have won, to have died
Defending the old flag
By sweet Slaney side.

Verse transcribed by [D.]. Ledwidge, Camp Quartermaster, Tintown No 3 Camp:

'As the years were before me began
Shall the years be when we are no more
And between them the years of a man
Are as wares the wind drives to the shore.'

Quote by Patrick Pearse transcribed by Seosamh Mac Dáibhéid, Tintown No 3 Camp, on the second day of the [hunger] strike ('An dara lá de'n stailc'):

'Life springs from death, and from the graves of patriot men and women spring living nations.'

Verses transcribed Padraic Ó Briain, Rath Camp:

They lost! But O! They conquer
These men who their land would save
A firing party at break of day.
And a tasty quick-lime grave.

But think not of them with scorn
Nor mourn for the cause they died
This death saved Ireland's honour
What mattered all else beside.

We've been told twas a failure by those that ne'er understood
How the new born soul of Erin was baptised in martyrs' blood
And to all who crave for freedom, as the world its
meaning know, I give them this little story
The story of Glorious Easter Week.

Verse transcribed by Vincent Burke, Hut 12, No 3 Tintown camp:

'What is life?
Ah who can say!
Clouds upon a summer day
Gone tomorrow, here today
Gift of heaven come to stay
Who can say?

What is death
Ah no-one knows!
Words that cease and eyes that close
Something sweeter that repose
Just away that each one goes
Where God knows!

What is Love?
Ah who can tell!
Sometimes heaven, sometimes hell
Neither wholly ill or well
All would buy, but who can sell?
Who can tell?

Note by Edward Dunne (Clonaslee, Laois), Tintown No 2 Camp:

'Give real champagne
to your best friends
Give real pain to your sham friends
Just a few from a bashful poet.'