Do ye hear the children weeping,
O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years
They are leaning their young heads against their mothers—- And that cannot stop their tears
The young lambs are bleating in the meadows; The young birds...
Gold mouths cry with the green youngcertainty of the bronze boyremembering a thousand autumnsand how a hundred thousand leavescame sliding down his shoulder bladespersuaded by his bronze heroic reason
We ignore the coming doom of goldand we a...
Our flag is proudly floating On the land and on the main,
Shout, shout the battle cry of Freedom
Beneath it oft we've conquered,
And we'll conquer oft again
Do not cry for me,
Mother, seeing me in the grave
This greatest hour was hallowed and
By angel's choirs; fire melted sky
Sometimes when I'm alone
I Cry,
Cause I am on my own.
The tears I cry are bitter and warm.