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200 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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MAURICE O'CONNELL
RECRUITING SONG FOR THE IRISH BRIGADE
I
S there a youthful gallant here On fire for fame—unknowing fear — Who in the charge's mad career On Erin's foes would flesh his spear?
Come, let him wear the White Cockade, And learn the soldier's glorious trade, 'Tis of such stuff a hero's made, Then let him join the Bold Brigade.
Who scorns to own a Saxon Lord, And toil to swell a stranger's hoard ? Who for rule blown or gibing word Would answer with the Freeman's sword ?
Come, let him wear the White Cockade, etc.
Does Erin's foully slandered name Suffuse thy cheek with generous shame — Would'st right her wrongs—restore her fame?— Come, then, the soldier weapon claim —
Come, then, and wear the White Cockade, etc.
Come, free from bonds your father's faith, Redeem its shrines from scorn and scathe, The Hero's fame, the Martyr's wreath, Will gild your life or crown your death,
Then, come, and wear the White Cockade, etc. |
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