Brien. Tootrue. Alas!
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Treason! crime of crimes! Though high thy birth— E’en in the courts above, when one rebelledAgainst the awful majesty of God— Yet such a birth but makes thee viler still,And loathsome to the sight of each true man, Who shrinks with strongest dread from thy dark sway, ~ Yet bravely dares each foreign foe to war.For strong though be the hated stranger’s force,Yet may such force be met. He nobly stands,As men should stand, e’en face to face. But thou,Foul Treason! dark as night, doth tread thy wayThrough gloomy paths, as if the light of dayWould put to shame thy dark and deadly deeds.Who takes the life of fellow-man does thatWhich on his brow doth place the brand of. Cain,And calls God’s curse upon his guilty head.With justice too, for he, vile wretch, has robbedThe precious gift of life, and may not giveThe treasure back. The crime is great ; and yet,Methinks the crime is white as driven snowCompared to that foul deed the traitor does.He takes a nation’s life ; his dagger fallsInto the very vitals of the landThat gave him birth. He strikes a fatal blowWhich oft is felt through ages yet to come,In foreign rule, in cruel laws, in wrongsWhich eat into the very soul, which makeA welcome guest the messenger of Death.What say you, noble friends ; shall this cree fateBe Erin’s lot ?
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