Hibernian Songster - Irish song lyrics

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HIBERNIAN SONGSTER.
No useless coffin confined his breast,
Nor in sheet or shroud we bound him, But he lay like a warrior taking his rest,
With his martial cloak around him.
Few and short were the prayers we said,
And we spoke not a word of sorrow; But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead,
And we bitterly thought of the morrow.
We thought, as we hcap'd his narrow bed.
And smooth'd down his lonely pillow, That the foe and the stranger would tread o'er his head,
And we far away on the billow.
Lightly they'll talk of the spirit that's gone,
And o'er his cold ashes upbraid him; But nothing he'll reck if they let him sleep on
In the grave where a Briton has laid him.
But half of our heavy task was done, When the clock told the hour for retiring,
And we heard by the distant and random gun That the foe was sullenly firing.
Slowly and sadly we laid him down, From the field of his fame fresh and gory,
We carved not a line, we raised not a stone, But we left him alone in his glory.
THE GREEN FLAG.
Boys! fill your glasses, each hour that passes
Steals, it may be, on our last night's cheer; The day soon shall come, boys, with fife and drum, boys,
Breaking shrilly on the soldier's ear. Drink to the faithful hearts that love us,
'Mid to-morrow's thickest fight; While our green flag floats above us,
Think, boys, 'tis for them we smite. Down with each mean flag, none but the green flag
Shall above us be In triumph seen; Oh! think on its glory, long shrined in story,
Charge for Erin and her Sag of green!
Think on old Brian, war's mighty lion,
'Neath that banner 'twas he smote the Dane; The Northman and Saxon oft turned their hacks on
Those who bore it o'er each crimsoned plain. Beal-an-atha-Buidhe beheld it
Bagenal's fiery onset curb; Scotch Munroe would fain have feiled it.
We, boys, followed' him front red Beihriburb.
Charged with Eoghan for our flag of green! Down with each mean flag, none but the green flag
Shall above us be in triumph seen; Oh, think on its glory, long shrined in story,
Charge with Eoghan for our flag of green!
■And if at eve, boys, comrades shall grieve, boys,
O'er our corses, let It be with pride; When thinking that each, boys, on that red beach, boys.
Lies the flood-mark of the battle's tide. See! the first faint ray of morning
Glld3 the east with yellow light! Hark! the bugle note gives warning—
One full bumper to old friends to-night. Down with each mean flag, none but the green flag
Shall above us be In triumph seen; Oh! think on its glory, long shrined in story,
Fall or conquer for our flag of green!