To God and Ireland True - Ellen O’Leary

I sit beside my darling’s grave,
  Who in the prison died,
And tho’ my tears fall thick and fast
  I think of him with pride:
Ay, softly fall my tears like dew,
For one to God and Ireland true.

“I love my God o’er all,” he said,
  “And then I love my land,
And next I love my Lily sweet,
  Who pledged me her white hand:
To each—to all—I’m ever true,
To God, to Ireland, and to you.

No tender nurse his hard bed smoothed,
  Or softly raised his head;
He fell asleep and woke in heaven
  Ere I knew he was dead;
Yet why should I my darling rue?
He was to God and Ireland true.

Oh! ’tis a glorious memory,
  I’m prouder than a queen,
To sit beside my hero’s grave,
  And think on what has been;
And, oh my darling, I am true
To God—to Ireland—and to you.

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Ellen O’Leary (1831 – 1889) Ireland