Sweet Slaney's Side
In the dull weary gloom of the cold prison cell
Aching and lonely saddened hearts swell
And yearn for the old friends, the true and the tried
Who are battling for Ireland by sweet Slaney's side.
Oh God! to have fought, to have won or have died
Defending the homesteads by sweet Slaney's side.
How oft in the silence and stillness of night
Have I helped you prepare for the triumph of right,
Or watching your labour, with joy almost cried
As I thought of the future by sweet Slaney's side.
When fancy saw blue steel with flame red blood dyed,
And victory sit smiling by sweet Slaney's side.
What joy surges over sad souls to see
A day in the future when once more we'll be
Where courage and honour and truth ate allied
'Neath the tricolor waving by my sweet Slaney's side.
Oh God, won't old Ireland look grand as a bride
When wedded to freedom by sweet Slaney's side.