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'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.'
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.'
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 Jimmie Egan, Hut 25 ,of Henry Street, Tullamore:
'Where ever England's forces assemble on land on sea or in air We pray thee Oh Lord God of Battle to send all thy thunderbolts there Wherever her plotters are plotting Wherever her fortresses frown With thy vengeance as vivid as lightening Strike her down Oh Lord God! Strike her down.'
Verse transcribed by Internee 1537, D Company, Hut 31, Patrick J. Daly (Tullamore, Offaly):
'Lloyd George no doubt when his life ebbs out Will ride in a fiery chariot He will sit in state on a red hot plate 'Twixt the Devil and Judas Iscariot Annanias that day to the Devil will say My Presidency here has failed So move up higher Away from the fire And make room for the liar from Wales.'
'Oft as I've lain in my hut at night And through the roof the rain came pouring Then I've tucked the clothes around my head And joined the chorus snoring'
'Wherever the forces of crown assemble Whether on land, or sea, or the air Strike them down O Lord Strike them down And may their bones be ground into manure And spread over the land to grow crops for the poor.'