Volume: CBÉ 0221

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The Main Manuscript Collection, Volume 0221, Page 0184

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The Main Manuscript Collection, Volume 0221, Page 0184

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  1. (continued from previous page)
    I looked around my comrades three were numbered with the dead.
    "Brave souls" I prayed in the morning light
    May heaven be your bed
    Mac Alister that noble soul, his fame shall never die,
    Nor foxmen dare too softly when Irishmen are nigh.
    Whene'er I think on your sad face
    My heart would almost break
    So I call in Robert Emmett who has died for Ireland's sake.
    Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.
  2. Sarsfield is the word and Sarsfield is the man
    Let England tell before that fight how oft her soldiers ran.
    Phil Sheridans work and daring ride full fifty miles away
    Retrieved the fortune of a fight mine are none the less I say.
    (continues on next page)
    Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.
    Date
    26 June 1936
    Item type
    Lore
    Language
    English
    Writing mode
    Handwritten
    Writing script
    Roman script
    Informant