- IE OCL P29/22
- Part
- 1921
Unsigned watercolour of a burial cross with the inscription:
'In loving memory of Kevin Barry who died for Ireland Nov 2nd 1920'. Also captioned 'memory is the only friend that grieve [sic] can call its own.'
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Unsigned watercolour of a burial cross with the inscription:
'In loving memory of Kevin Barry who died for Ireland Nov 2nd 1920'. Also captioned 'memory is the only friend that grieve [sic] can call its own.'
Quote by Sir Walter Scott transcribed by Kieran Temple, Hut 28:
'Breathes there a man with soul so dead
Who ne'er to himself has said
This is my own; my native land'
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.'
Signature of Alisdair MacCába.
Signatures of John O'Flaherty (Donegal), William Baxter (Dublin), John J FitzPatrick (Dublin) and Denis Walsh (Tullamore, Offaly), all from Hut 40.
Verse transcribed by T. J. Casey, Hut 28:
'The R.I.C.
Many lands have slaves and traitors who would sell their race for gold
Who would lead the greedy wild beast, on the unprotected fold
But the meanest vilest wretch of all that curse the Earth today
Is the Irish-born slaveling who would fight in England's pay'
Verse by E. Forrestal, Tullamore:
'If writing in autographs true friendship secures,
with the greatest of pleasure I'll scribble in yours'.
Quote transcribed by Frank McGuinness (Kilbeggan), Rath Camp:
Work Advice
'Work my friends, is the lot of man! Man was sent into this world to earn his living by the sweat of his brow. You didn't find Adam walking about the Garden of Eden with his hands in his pockets! '
Verse by Michael Keating, Dublin:
'When this you see
Remember me
sawing wood
All fates defying
Seriously trying
To escape if I could'
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.