THE DEATH OF SARSFIELD; A CHAUNT OF THE BRIGADE by THOMAS OSBORNE DAVIS

I.

SARSFIELD has sailed from Limerick Town,
He held it long for country and crown;
And ere he yielded, the Saxon swore
To spoil our homes and our shrines no more.

II.

Sarsfield and all his chivalry
Are fighting for France in the low countrie --
At his fiery charge the Saxons reel,
They learned at Limerick to dread the steel.

III.

Sarsfield is dying on Landen's plain;
His corslet hath met the ball in vain --
As his life-blood gushes into his band,
He says, "Oh! that this was for father-land!"

IV.

Sarsfield is dead, yet no tears shed we --
For he died in the arms of Victory,
And his dying words shall edge the brand,
When we chase the foe from our native land!

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