Written by J. F. Waller.
Oh! Blessed be the days when the green banner floated,
Sublime o’er the mountains of free Innisfail;
Her sons to her glory and freedom devoted
Defied the invader to tread her soil
When back o’er the main they chas’d the Dane
And gave to religion and learning their spoil;
When valour and mind together combin’d –
But wherefore lament o’er the glories departed?
Her star shall shine out with as vivid a ray,
For ne’er had she children so brave and true-hearted,
As those she now sees on St. Patrick’s Day
Her sceptre, alas! Pass’d way to the stranger
And treason surrendered where valour had held;
But true hearts remain’d amid darkness and danger;
Which spite of her tyrants would not be quell’d.
Oft’, oft’ thro, the night flash’d gleams of light,
Which almost the darkness of bondage dispell’d;
But a star now is near her heaven to cheer,
Not like the wild gleams which so fitfully darted,
But long to shine out with a happowing ray
On daughters as fair and sons as true-hearted,
As Erin beholds on St. Patrick’s Day.
Oh! Blest be the hour when begirt by her cannon,
And hail’d as it rose by a nation’s applause,
That flag wav’d aloft o’er the spire of Dungannon,
Asserting for Irishmen Irish Laws.
Once more shall it wave o’er hearts as brave,
Despite of the dastards who mock her cause;
And like brothers agreed, whatever their creed,
Her children inspir’d by those glories departed,
No longer in darkness desponding will stay,
But join in her cause like the brave and true-hearted,
Who rise for their rights on St . Patrick’s Day.