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Verse by Michael Keating, Dublin:

'When this you see
Remember me
sawing wood

All fates defying
Seriously trying
To escape if I could'

Verse by 'B. J. M. ', Hut 26, Rath Camp:

'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'

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'

Quote from Pádraig Pearse transcribed by Pádraig Ó Catháin (Carlow), the Long Hut, Tintown Camp:

'We know only one definition of freedom - it is Tone's definition, it is Mitchell's definition, it is Rossa's definition. Let no man blaspheme the cause which the dead generations of Ireland have served by calling it by any other name and definition, than by their name and definition.'

Verse transcribed by Walter A. Mitchell (Rahan, Offaly), Hut 3, Tintown No.2 Camp:

Just a greeting from a comrade
Who lies in chains with you
To show you that a gloomy past
Did not our souls subdue
May all the pleasures which this world
To freeman's life, doth give
Be yours in all your future days
When slaves no more shall live.'

Quote from a parody of Thomas Campbell's 'The Exile of Erin' transcribed by Liam Ó [Dulchaointigh], Tintown No 3 Camp, who ascribes this version to Rudyard Kipling:

'There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin
the dew on his thin robes was heavy and chill
Ere the dust from his brogues he fully had shaken
He was Member of Parliament introducing a Bill.

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 M.B.C. (Maggie B. Corcoran) at Harbour St, Tullamore

'Maggie Corcoran is my name
Limerick is my native place
When I am dead and in my grave
And all my bones are rotten
This little book will tell my name
When I am quite forgotten.'

Popular verse transcribed by M. B. Corcoran at Harbour St., Tullamore.

Popular verses transcribed by M.B.C. (Maggie B. Corcoran) at Doon, Co. Limerick.