Padraic Colum (1881–1972). Anthology of Irish Verse. 1922.
By Charles Gavan Duffy135. The Irish Rapparees
R
Ill luck be theirs, both day and night, put running in his mind
Lord Lucan followed after, with his Slashers brave and true,
And now the doleful keen is raised—“What will poor Ireland do?
What must poor Ireland do?
Our luck,” they say, “has gone to France—what can poor Ireland do?”
For Rory’s boys are in the wood, and Remy’s on the hill;
And never had poor Ireland more loyal hearts than these—
May God be kind and good to them, the faithful Rapparees
The fearless Rapparees!
The jewel were you, Rory, with your Irish Rapparees!
Oh, high’s your head, Clan Sassenach, since Sarsfield’s gone away!
It’s little love you bear to us, for the sake of long ago
But hold your hand, for Ireland still can strike a deadly blow—
Can strike a mortal blow—
Och, dar-a-Críost ’tis she that still
Could strike a deadly blow.
The Master’s son, an outlawed man, is riding on the hills.
But God be praised that round him throng, as thick as summer bees,
The swords that guarded Limerick wall—his faithful Rapparees!
His loving Rapparees!
Who dare say “no” to Rory Oge, with all his Rapparees?
God rest the faithful hearts he broke!—we’ll never see them more
But I’ll go bail he’ll break no more, while Truagh has gallows trees;
For why?—he met one lonely night, the fearless Rapparees
The angry Rapparees!
They never sin no more, my boys, who cross the Rapparees.
Keep down your black and angry looks, that scorn us night and day:
For there’s a just and wrathful Judge, that every action sees,
And He’ll make strong, to right our wrong, the faithful Rapparees!
The fearless Rapparees!
The men that rode by Sarsfield’s side, the roving Rapparees!