Easter Monday, 1916
(Written in Stafford Gaol, England)
They feared no foe, they only knew
The hour had come red war to wage;
Their hands were strong, their hearts were true —
The men who marched from the Hermitage.
They loved the man who led them forth,
They prized their deathless heritage,
They loved their land from South to North —
The men who marched from the Hermitage.
They fought a hard and bitter fight;
Their fame shall live through many an age;
They saved their land, they crowned the Right —
The men who marched from the Hermitage.
They're fewer now; the one who led
Has writ his name on history's page,
And so they walk with prouder tread —
The men who marched from the Hermitage.
They feared no foe, they only knew
The hour had come red war to wage;
Their hands were strong, their hearts were true —
The men who marched from the Hermitage.
They loved the man who led them forth,
They prized their deathless heritage,
They loved their land from South to North —
The men who marched from the Hermitage.
They fought a hard and bitter fight;
Their fame shall live through many an age;
They saved their land, they crowned the Right —
The men who marched from the Hermitage.
They're fewer now; the one who led
Has writ his name on history's page,
And so they walk with prouder tread —
The men who marched from the Hermitage.
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