The Foggy Dew
(Irish traditional)
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 dread tattoo,
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell,
Rang out of the Foggy Dew.
Right proudly high over Dublin town
They hung out the flag of war,
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