As down the glen one easter morn to a city fair rode I
There armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum no battle drum did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus Bells o'er the Liffey swells rang out in the foggy dew
Right proudly high over Dublin town hung they out the flag of war
'Twas better to die 'neath that Irish sky than at Sulva or Sud-El-Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through
While Brittania's Huns with their long range guns sailed in through the foggy dew
Oh the bravest fell, and the requiem bell rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the spring time of the year
And the world did gaze, in deep amaze, at those fearless men but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew
As back through the glen I rode again, and my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men whom I'll never shall see'n more
But to and fro in my dreams I go And I kneel and pray for you
For slavery fled, O glorious dead, When you fell in the foggy dew