OUR OWN AGAIN.

THE voice of freedom’s sounding From farthest shore to shore; And Erin’s pulse is bounding With manhood’s blood once more; Our sluggard trance is broken, We stand erect as men, Our stern demand is spoken, We’ll have our own again! No futile bribes can stay us, No traitor chiefs control, No wheedling tones delay us, No terrors blanch our soul. The gloomy hour has vanished And gone forever when We could be crushed or banished— We’ll have our own again! The bluster of the Tories, And Whigdom’s tempting lies, Are vain and foolish stories We spurn and we despise. We’ve torn the landlord foeman From out his reeking den, And now we’ll halt for no man— We’ll have our own again! Our eyes are lifted sunward, No power can bar our course, Our march must still be onward, Spite either guile or force; And be it by the sabre, The voice, the vote, or pen, Or steadfast, patient labor— We’ll have our own again!