I knew not Ireland's glory,
Her woes or wrongs, her woes or wrongs;
I only heard the story
From Saxon tongues, from Saxon tongues;
And if, at times, in sorrow,
My heart would ope, my heart would ope,
I knew not where to borrow
One ray of hope, one ray of hope.
But soon thy fire fraught pages[1]
Allured my sight, allured my sight,