To the memory of Sean MacDermott,
Written at Barbimill Prison, Glasgow on receiving a photo of Sean MacDermot – 16/06/1916
Oh shed no sad or useless tears
Nor sound no mournfull wail
For him whose body lies at rest
within Kilmainhams jail
Though Brittans bullets piersed his Breast
And stoped his blood to flow
His spirit shall outlive the time when that empieres dust is low
When Marells name, with firend & Price
Shall all forgotten be
and or dear law midist nations shaw
Proud prospersous and free
Amongst the florous Martyrs roll
Whove won immortal fame
no one shall there more proudly shine
than Sean MacDermotts Name
He is not dead whose spirit lives
To proudly point the way
To nerve our hearts for noble deeds
To carry on the pray
Till like to Saxon Lordes of old
Midist shot and shell and steel
The foe that blights our native land
Before our Colours shall reel
When ongoing slaves and souless men
Would gain have sold our land
against their miles and treaterous work
you made a gallaut stand
you made then writhe beneath your lash
the weakling and the sneak
And crowned the work you thus begun
With that glorous Easter Week.
Tis ard to think that tongue is stilled
That once spoke with Such fire
Which roused the men of north & south
and filled John Bull with ink
But here today before our God
ive swear on bended knee
That we never shall forsake the cause
until our Lande is Free
This is no time to weep or wail
This is no time to cry
For the law that bore such men as he
Can never never die
And God will bless the men who die
Their native Land to save
And their sould will shine for evermore
in that home beyond the grave