The Breeze
Behind rock walls
in a field of crows
they made their stand for Ireland
and when the rifles made their sound
black wings sent a message clear
Add now to famine and Coffin ships
More blood on the hands of England
Claire Merry’s boys in the mud did die
And their spirit filled the breeze
Oh mother dear
You were made for tears
Shed freely for all Ireland
We lay these boys in this tender soil
Their beds forever made
While the greenest greens spread far and wide
Away from these grim holes in the ground
And even now their voices raise
In a silent cry on the breeze
O death is not their ending
The message is so clear
Push through it to a clarion call
to this country we hold so dear
Remember them, my brave ladeens
Remember a mother’s crying
And if thee raise a flock of crows
Pray a murder’s only flying
And someday sweet the smoke will clear
And England will be banished
From Ireland’s Green and pleasant lands
Where we’ll sing freely on the breeze