. Springhillian Oct 1919 - July 1920 New Series Vol. XII No. 1 - 4 . , rejoice and endure!Love to labor and wait, and Freedoms for thee,For thy sons we are sure,For thy daughters so pure,Dear Isle of the Saints and fair gem of the sea! Freedom is the cry through the nations founded By the worlds grand cohort of Libertys is heard in the South and has Northward is loud in the States which Freedom has grounded,It is heard wherever old ocean has sounded,And wave after wave repeats as it is hurled to the Sun at the gates of the East,And sung to the Stars which enamel th
. Springhillian Oct 1919 - July 1920 New Series Vol. XII No. 1 - 4 . , rejoice and endure!Love to labor and wait, and Freedoms for thee,For thy sons we are sure,For thy daughters so pure,Dear Isle of the Saints and fair gem of the sea! Freedom is the cry through the nations founded By the worlds grand cohort of Libertys is heard in the South and has Northward is loud in the States which Freedom has grounded,It is heard wherever old ocean has sounded,And wave after wave repeats as it is hurled to the Sun at the gates of the East,And sung to the Stars which enamel the West; And the cry has increased Like the sound of a feast;Give Erin to Erin and her island is blest. Sweet evergreen Isle! What need of repining? Our exile and tears may still lead us to woes and afflictions are of Gods own designing, Who, ere He crowneth, oft bringeth to if brothers betray, what if Joseph be sold?The victim of thraldom wins favor with kings,He has power and goldAnd wealth to unfoldAnd joys to replace Egypts long* sufferings!. «! W CO <M O o Xo CO « SPRINGHILLIAN 33 Whence sprang the great Empires ? The maker of nations Has forged them like metals if great they wars and through woes, and through sad desolations, He tempered them, giving them all in the flameBoth a strength and a tenderness even as furnace was exile, and suffering the blast,The tools were the hordesOf tyrannical lords,The fire was oppression seeming ever to last. The ship of a state which can boast of story; With the winds, and the storms, and the bullets and foesHas coped, and thus purchased her flag and her glory With rivers of blood and a nations first moaned in the yard neath the big hammers weight,And anon in the waves and the surging sand,She groaned at her fateWhen her enemys hatePursued her at sea and denied her the land. Dear land of Saint Patrick, receive consolation! Thy sons, though in exile, reflect back thy tow
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