Scoil: Taobh Breac (uimhir rolla 15227)

Suíomh:
Tievebrack, Co. Donegal
Múinteoir:
Donnchadh E. Mac Congáile
Brabhsáil
Bailiúchán na Scol, Imleabhar 1098, Leathanach 237

Tagairt chartlainne

Bailiúchán na Scol, Imleabhar 1098, Leathanach 237

Íomhá agus sonraí © Cnuasach Bhéaloideas Éireann, UCD.

Féach sonraí cóipchirt.

Íoslódáil

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Ar fáil faoin gceadúnas Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 International (CC BY 4.0)

  1. XML Scoil: Taobh Breac
  2. XML Leathanach 237
  3. XML “Springtime”
  4. XML “Tillers of the Soil”

Nóta: Ní fada go mbeidh Comhéadan Feidhmchláir XML dúchas.ie dímholta agus API úrnua cuimsitheach JSON ar fáil. Coimeád súil ar an suíomh seo le haghaidh breis eolais.

Ar an leathanach seo

  1. (ar lean ón leathanach roimhe)
    Wither the frosts of life, not long enduring.
    3. Springtime of life,
    Dove on the wing
    Doubling thy strife
    E’en as I sing
    Oh! That some spell would a moment delay thee
    Fain would I pluck thy swift pinions and stay thee
    FINIS
    Tras-scríofa ag duine dár meitheal tras-scríbhneoirí deonacha.
  2. 1. Has the time not come when the poor man’s home
    Will more attention crave
    There’s a nation’s name and a nations fame
    And a nation’s life to save.
    There is famine’s dread and the fight for bread,
    And death’s rattle as they say,
    In the nation’s breath as she works for death
    With a dwindling peasantry.
    2. There’s a greed for gold with a certain fold
    That does the sceptre wield.
    While there’s drudgery and pay, pay, pay,
    With the man who tills the field
    He is driven away, for he cannot stay
    And never a tear is shed
    He shall not return and his land shall mourn
    For a useful soldier fled.
    3. Let the powers that be, their error see
    Driving out such husbandsmen,
    They can count the spoil from a delerict [sic] soil
    Let them balance their Budget, then!
    The greedy crew the wood may hew
    And carry the water pail
    And wring their hands. Their house in the sands
    Will be strewn about in the gale.
    4. Ye sons of toil that till the soil
    Come rally your land to save.
    And seize the tools from the jobbing fools
    That are digging the nation’s grave
    And in union band on the ramparts stand
    Till each mongrel foeman’s fled
    Or politics that would dare to fix
    The price of the nation’s bread.
    FINIS
    Tras-scríofa ag duine dár meitheal tras-scríbhneoirí deonacha.
    Teanga
    Béarla
    Bailitheoir
    Donnachadh E. Mac Congáile
    Inscne
    Fireann
    Gairm bheatha
    Múinteoir (Léirítear teidil na ngairmeacha i mBailiúchán na Scol sa bhunteanga inar cláraíodh iad)
    Faisnéiseoir
    James Mc Loughlin
    Inscne
    Fireann
    Seoladh
    Tievebrack, Co. Donegal