The night was dark and the fight was over The moon shone down O’Connell Street I stood alone where brave men perished Those men have gone their God to meet Curfá: My only son was shot in Dublin Fighting for his country bold He fought for Ireland and Ireland only The Harp and Shamrock, Green, White and Gold The first I met was a grey-haired father Searching for his only son I said “Old man, there’s no use searching For up to heaven your son has gone” Curfá The old man cried out broken hearted Bending o’er I heard him say “I knew my son was too kind hearted I knew my son would never yield” Curfá The last I met was a dying rebel Bending low I heard him say “God bless my home in dear Cork City And bless the cause for which I die” Curfá
An Laoch Ar Lár
Unique Word Count: 109
I Sráid Uí Chonaill tá an ré a' soilsiú San oíche dhorcha tar éis an áir Is mé liom féin mar ar thit na laochra Is iad anois uaim ar neamh go hard. Curfá: I mBaile Átha Cliath sea d'éag m'aonmhac Ag cosaint Éireann le neart is cóir Ar son a thíre, ar son na fíre An chruit, an tseamróg, glas, bán is óir. Is ann a bhuail liom a mháthair bhuartha Le taobh a haonmhic, ba bhocht a cás Sea duirt go bródúil 'Mo mhac bhi cróga, Fíorscoth na hóige nár ghéill go bás.' Is ann a casadh domh an seanfhear aosta Ar thóir a aonmhic sa chuardach bhuan Is ea dúirt me 'A thréanfhir, níl maith a shéanadh I bhflaitheas Dé tá do mhac faoi shuan.' Is ann a casadh domh an fear óg loite Sea dúirt go bródúil, an laoch ar lár 'A Bhéal Feirste álainn, céad míle slán leat Is slán le hÉirinn anois go brách.’