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Excerpted from Harper of the Only God by Alice Milligan. Copyright © 1993. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved
Oh brothers! Sons of one loved land,
Who to such combat armed each hand,
What cause of fury and of hate
Had either? By what mocking fate
Are ye, begirt with scornful foes,
Now locked in self-destructive throes,
Whilst they, in calm complacence jeering,
Wait our annihilation nearing;
Wishful that after all your toils,
Of Victory they will reap the spoils.
They tell us in that noble tale,
The glory of the Northern Gael,
When weary of the watch he'd kept
And wounded sore, Cuchulain slept;
The youth of Erin glad, untired,
With hearts untamed, with hopes inspired,
Rose up against the invading foe.
As it was then it may be so
In these sad days of blood and tears.
Have faith - trust God for happier years,
For strength upheld, for peace restored
'Twixt those who battle at the ford.