‘Tis the dewy hour of sunrise
In the glorious month of May
And the heated mist presages
Summer’s splendour thro’ the day.
Muffled, stealthy in the silence
Sounds the noise of tramping feet:
Men whose sons are free come marching
Up the…
A morning fair, o’erarched with skies of May,
Broke over files of men in stern array-
By wrongs made reckless – to avenge the flood –
The seething torrent of their tears and blood
By England’s hell-hounds shed. The sunbeams fell
On…