for half a day and abate no whit of their zeal at the end; English
regiments sometimes sulk under punishment, while the Irish, like
the French, are apt to run forward by ones and twos, which is just
as bad as running back. The truly wise commandant of highly-strung
troops allows them, in seasons of waiting, to hear the sound of
their own voices uplifted in song. There is a legend of an English
regiment that lay by its arms under fire chaunting "Sam Hall," to
the horror of its newly appointed and pious colonel. The Black
Boneens, who were suffering more than the Mavericks, on a hill
half a mile away, began presently to explain to all who cared to
listen -

We'll sound the jubilee, from the centre to the sea,
And Ireland shall be free, says the Shan-van Vogh.

"Sing, boys," said Father Dennis softly. "It looks as if we cared
for their Afghan peas."

Dan Grady raised himself to his knees and opened his mouth in a
song imparted to him, as to most of his comrades, in the strictest
confidence by Mulcahy - that Mulcahy then lying limp and fainting
on the grass, the chill fear of death upon him.

Company after company caught up the words which, the I. A. A. say,
are to herald the general rising of Erin, and to breathe which,
except to those duly appointed to hear, is death. Wherefore they
are printed in this place.

The Saxon in Heaven's just balance is weighed,
His doom like Belshazzar's in death has been cast,