It was down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I.
Their armoured lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by.
No fife did hum nor battle drum did sound it's dread tattoo.
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell
rang out through the foggy dew.
Their armoured lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by.
No fife did hum nor battle drum did sound it's dread tattoo.
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey swell
rang out through the foggy dew.
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