Fill up once more, we’ll drink a toast
To comrades far away;
No nation on the earth can boast
Of braver hearts than they.
And though they sleep in dungeons deep,
Or flee, outlawed and banned,
We love them yet, we ne’er forget
The felons of our land!
In boyhood’s bloom and manhood’s pride,
Foredoomed by alien laws,
Some on the scaffold proudly died
For holy Ireland’s cause.
And brothers, say, shall we to-day
Unmoved like cowards stand,
While traitors shame and foes defame
The felons of our land?
Some in the convict’s dreary cell
Have found a living tomb,
And some unseen, unfriended, fell
Within its silent gloom.
Yet what care we, although it be
Trod by a ruffian band,
God bless the clay where rest to-day
The felons of our land!
Let cowards sneer and tyrants frown,
Oh, little do we care,
A felon’s cap’s the noblest crown
An Irish head can wear!
And every Gael in Innisfail
Who scorns the serf’s vile brand,
From Lee to Boyne would gladly join
The felons of our land!