[00:00.00] 作词 : Traditionnel
[00:01.00] 作曲 : Traditionnel
[00:15.37]As down the glen one Easter morn
[00:24.75]To a city fair rode I.
[00:33.37]There, armed lines of marching men,
[00:42.13]In squadrons passed me by.
[00:49.47]No pipe did hum, no battle drum
[00:58.45]Did sound its loud tattoo
[01:08.82]But the Angelus' bells o'er the Liffey swells
[01:20.59]Rang out in the foggy dew.
[01:33.80]Right proudly high in Dublin town
[01:39.06]Hung they out a flag of war.
[01:44.33]'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
[01:49.59]Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
[01:55.33]And from the plains of Royal Meath
[02:00.51]Strong men came hurrying through;
[02:05.97]While Brittania's Huns with their long-range guns
[02:11.42]Sailed in through the foggy dew.
[02:27.94]The bravest fell, and the requiem bell
[02:32.98]Rang mournfully and clear
[02:38.34]For those who died that Easter-tide
[02:43.63]In the springing of the year.
[02:48.73]While the world did gaze with deep amaze
[02:54.16]At those fearless men but few
[02:59.32]Who bore the fight that freedom's light
[03:04.75]Might shine through the foggy dew.
[03:10.38]
[03:51.18]And back through the glen I rode again
[04:05.45]And my heart with grief was sore
[04:15.10]For I parted then with valiant men
[04:24.77]Whom I never shall see more
[04:33.18]But to and fro
[04:37.69]In my dreams I go
[04:42.00]And I kneel and pray for you
[04:52.38]For slavery fled
[04:58.36]Oh, glorious dead
[05:07.19]When you fell in the foggy dew

作词 : Traditionnel
作曲 : Traditionnel
As down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
There, armed lines of marching men,
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus' bells o'er the Liffey swells
Rang out in the foggy dew.
Right proudly high in Dublin town
Hung they out a flag of war.
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through;
While Brittania's Huns with their long-range guns
Sailed in through the foggy dew.
The bravest fell, and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Easter-tide
In the springing of the year.
While the world did gaze with deep amaze
At those fearless men but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew.
And back through the glen I rode again
And my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men
Whom I never shall see more
But to and fro
In my dreams I go
And I kneel and pray for you
For slavery fled
Oh, glorious dead
When you fell in the foggy dew