The Foggy Dew (迷雾水珠) - Patsy Watchorn/Tommy Makem

It was down the glen one Easter morn

To a city fair rode I

There armed lines of marching men

In squadrons passed me by

No fife did hum nor battle drum

Did sound it's dread tattoo

But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell

Rang out through the foggy dew

Right proudly high over dublin' sky

They hung out the flag of war

It was better to die neath an Irish sky

Than at Sulva or Sud El Bar

And from the plains of Royal Meath

Strong men came hurrying through

While Britannia's Huns with their long range guns

Sailed in to the foggy dew

Twas Britannia bade our Wild Geese go

That small nations might be free

But their lonely graves are by Sulva's waves

Or the shore of the Great North Sea

Oh had they died by Pearse's side

Or fought with Cathal Brugha

Their names we will keep

Where the fenians sleep

Neath the shroud of the foggy dew

But the bravest fell and the requiem bell

Rang mournfully and clear

For those who died that Easter tide

In the springing time of the year

And the world did gaze in deep amaze

At those fearless men and dew

They bore the fight that freedom's light

Might shine through the foggy dew

Back through the glen I rode again

And my heart with grief was sore

For I parted then with valiant men

Whom I never shall see more

I'm truely fro in my dreams I go

And I'd kneel and pray for you

For slavery fled

O glorious dead

When you fell in the foggy dew