And strangers her valleys profane;
They come to divide—to dishonour—
And tyrants there long will remain:
But onward—the green banner rearing,
Go flesh ev'ry brand to the hilt:
On our side is Virtue and Erin,
And theirs is the Saxon and Guilt.
. . . . . .
Murray: I flew to the room—'twas not lonely:
My wife and her grawls were in bed;