Treasure Island

John Banim

(1798-1842 / Ireland)

Yes! Discord's Hand To The Last It Was


Yes! discord's hand to the last it was
In every field of our story,
Which did our country's fortunes cross,
And tear down all her glory--
And this we saw, and this we felt,
Yet still the warning slighted,
Till a clinging curse was to us dealt--
The curse of the disunited!

But, warn'd at last, in our strength we stand
Crying out, with one deep chorus,
For requital to this outraged land--
Land of our love, that bore us!
Millions shout, as a single man--
``Now, now, thou shalt be righted,
For now thy sons thy future span,
Because they are United!''

Ay! by the fate we shall weave for her,
To atone for the fate we wove her!
By those, her name who hate and slur--
By ourselves, who deeply love her!
By manhood's worth! by the sacred flame
On her hearths and her altars lighted--
By her present shame--by her ancient fame--
We are--we are United!

Submitted: Tuesday, October 12, 2010
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