Classic Poem

To Eire of the purple hills
My thoughts for ever go;
To Eire of the flashing streams
Through meadows green that flow;
To Eire of the misty glens
Where dreams long vigil keep;
To Eire of the churchyards blest
Where deathless martyrs sleep.

To Eire of the clean, true hearts
My blessing swiftly speeds;
For Eire's hopes, for Eire's dreams
I tell my loved brown beads;
For every hand that tries to lift
Our Mother's load of care,
Here in my narrow prison cell
Each morn I breathe a prayer.

At every dawn, at every noon,
At every evening's close,
I think of Eire's love and faith,
Of Eire's countless woes.
My heart cries out to Mary's Son
In every prayer I pray —
" Dear God! remember Eire's night,
And speed her cloudless day! "