The pale dead faces, the scattered limbs, The desolation, the horror there! This is the end of rebellion's dreams, After Aughrim, after Aughrim fair. The moans of the wounded, the dying groans, The weeping mothers, the fathers in despair, Who sent their sons to the English guns, After Aughrim, after Aughrim fair. Our cause was lost, our hope was vain, The gallant struggle ended there, Our brave were killed, our chiefs were slain, After Aughrim, after Aughrim fair. O William, the bloody, the cruel, the cold, May God have mercy on thy soul! For many a heart to the clay is gone Through thee, and thy English rule. And still we strive for liberty, And still we meet with an English foe, But some day we'll be free, we'll be free, In the far-off, gay and gallant land of France. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HE FELL AMONG THIEVES by HENRY JOHN NEWBOLT BUONAPARTE by WILLIAM WORDSWORTH POOR LIL' BRACK SHEEP by ETHEL M. C. BRAZELTON GILBERT: 2. THE WELCOME HOME by CHARLOTTE BRONTE THE WORST OF IT by ROBERT BROWNING |