My Land

On the ninetieth anniversary of the Easter Rising, it may be appropriate to reflect on the words of an earlier patriot, recently referred to by one of our regulars on Discussions – the Protestant patriot Thomas Davis.

She is a rich and rare land

Oh she’s a fresh and fair land;

She is a dear and rare land

This native land of mine.
 

No men than hers are braver,

Her women’s hearts ne’er waver;

I’d freely die to save her

And think my lot divine.


She’s not a dull or cold land,

No, she’s a warm and bold land,

Oh, she’s a true and old land

This native land of mine.
 

Could beauty ever guard her

And virtue still reward her

No foe would cross her border –

No friend within it pine.
 

Oh, she’s a fresh and fair land,

Oh, she’s a true and rare land,

Yes, she’s a rare and fair land,

This native land of mine.



P.S. Sorry about the ‘Protestant patriot’! No, I don’t know what that is either!

It’s just that so many of our finest – those whose reputation endured, belonged to the Protestant faith.   

Is there a lesson in there somewhere?

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