Memoirs of Anne C. L. Botta/Liberty to Ireland

130472Memoirs of Anne C. L. Botta — Libery to IrelandAnne Lynch Botta

          A nation's birthday breaks in glory;
             Songs from her hills and valleys rise,
          And myriad hearts thrill to the story
             Of Freedom's wars and victories.
          When God's right arm alone was o'er her,
             And in his name the patriot band,
             With sacred blood baptized the land,
          And England's Lion crouched before her,
             Sons of the Emerald Isle!
             She bids you rend the chain,
          And tell the haughty ocean queen
             Ye, too, are free-born men.

          Long had the world looked on in sorrow
             As Erin's sunburst set in night.
          Joy, joy! there breaks a glorious morrow;
             Behold a beam of morning light!
          A ray of hope, her night redeeming!
             And she greets it, though there lower
             England's scaffold, England's tower;
          And though hireling swords are gleaming,
             Wild shouts on every breeze
             Come swelling o'er the sea:
          Hark! 't is her starving millions' cry:
               "Give Ireland Liberty!"