AT THE END OF THE ROAD.
'Tis the end of the road of the Martyr's fast. His proud heart's still it has pulsed' its last, And the withered body is laid at rest Of one who died for a race oppressed — His life a pawn for Freedom's dawn, Erin has lost her best.
At the end of the road of the Martyr's trail The high soul speeds from its Brixton gaol, To join the ranks the noble host Who reckoned least, but who gave the most; And forever more, the love he bore Shall be his country's boast.
At the end of the road of the Martyr's pain, Mac Sweeney's cross shall be Ireland's gain; And the torch he proffered with. dying plea Shall be held aloft for all to see, When Ireland shall be free.
Willard J. Robinson, in the Irish World.
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New Zealand Tablet, 10 March 1921, Page 29
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143AT THE END OF THE ROAD. New Zealand Tablet, 10 March 1921, Page 29
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