Ireland Shall Rebel

Henry Lawson, 1890

      While tyrants rule the land,
      Beneath the Irish skies;
      While e'er the iron hand
      Upon our people lies;
      While sons are driven forth
      In other lands to dwell,
      Still in the South and North
      Old Ireland will rebel!
      Rebel, rebel!
      Old Ireland will rebel!

      While fanlike from below,
      And pale against the skies,
      That light of shame — the glow
      Of burning homes — shall rise;
      While hot indignant tears
      From Irish hearts shall swell —
      Be it a thousand years,
      Old Ireland will rebel!
      Rebel, rebel!
      Old Ireland will rebel!

      Until the tyrant's rod
      Shall broken be in twain,
      And on the dear old sod
      Blest freedom treads again;
      Or till our masters learn
      To rule our country well,
      The fires of hate shall burn!
      Old Ireland will rebel!
      Rebel, rebel!
      Old Ireland will rebel!