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Poem by Robert Dwyer Joyce Crossing the Blackwater WE stood so steady, All under fire, We stood so steady, Our long spears ready To vent our ire,— To dash on the Saxon, Our mortal foe, And lay him low In the bloody mire! ’T was by Blackwater, When snows were white, ’T was by Blackwater, Our foes for the slaughter Stood full in sight; But we were ready With our long spears, And we had no fears But we ’d win the fight. Their bullets came whistling Upon our rank, Their bullets came whistling, Their spears were bristling On the other bank; Yet we stood steady, And each good blade, Ere the morn did fade, At their life-blood drank. “Hurrah for Freedom!” Came from our van, “Hurrah for Freedom! Our swords—we ’ll feed ’em As best we can,— With vengeance we ’ll feed ’em!” Then down we crashed, Through the wild ford dashed, And the fray began! Horses to horses, And man to man,— O’er dying horses, And blood and corses, O’Sullivan, Our general, thundered, And we were not slack To slay at his back Till the flight began. O, how we scattered The foemen then,— Slaughtered and scattered, And chased and shattered, By shore and glen;— To the wall of Moyallo Few fled that day,— Will they bar our way When we come again? Our dead freres we buried,— They were but few,— Our dead freres we buried Where the dark waves hurried, And flashed and flew: O, sweet be their slumber Who thus have died In the battle’s tide, Inisfail, for you! Robert Dwyer Joyce Poem Theme: Rivers Robert Dwyer Joyce's other poems:
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