Of memories of,
home made bread

Of memorised of
poems not read

Of sounds conveying,
of ancient pain

Of folklore of -
of, Fenians slain.

Of bells of bridges
of floods of tears

Of hunger strikes
of love, of fears

Of banners blowing
of, from the wind

Of wretched clouds
of never end

Of voices, of, out
numbered crowds

Of dark of silence
of mundane shrouds

Of all of you of
all you’ve done

Of, Our Republic
of one, you've won!