She surrenders the guns of her brave Volunteers!
TONE'S GRAVE.
I.
In Bodenstown Churchyard there is a green grave,
And wildly along it the winter winds rave;
Small shelter, I ween, are the ruined walls there,
When the storm sweeps down on the plains of Kildare.
II.
Once I lay on that sod—it lies over Wolfe Tone—