Foggy Dew Songtext
von Beltaine

It was down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I
There Armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by
And no fife did hum nor battle drum did sound it′s dread tatoo
But the Angelus bell over the Liffey swell rang in through the foggy dew


Right proudly high in Dublin Town they hung out the flag of war
It was better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Sulva or Sud El Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through
While Britannia′s Huns, with their long range guns sailed in through the foggy dew

'Twas England bade our wild geese go that small nations might be free
But their lonely graves are by Sulva's waves or the shore of the Great North Sea
Oh, have they died by Pearse′s side or fought with Cathal Brugha
Their names we will keep where the fenians sleep ′neath the shroud of the foggy dew

But the bravest fell, and the requiem bell rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the springing of the year
And the world did gaze, in deep amaze, at those fearless men, but few
Who bore the fight so freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew