The Lilies of the Field
Share
The Lilies of the Field
(For Proinsias O Rathaille)
We are the lilies of the field We bloom forever there We stood through winds and did not yield — Our trumpets’ brave fanfare. At Eastertide we make our stand, We call you to admire The green, the white, the golden spike Where burns our sacred fire.
Chorus And we bloom on forever Your memory to inflame No cold East wind will sever Our nation from our name. A symbol of true bravery — We fought, this land to save, To cast away base slavery And win a poet’s grave.
Peaceful be the gentle spot, gentle be the rains That fill our Easter goblets up To ease our nation’s pains. We bloom so you might understand The sacrifice we made, Who bled and nourished this fair land Wherein our bones are laid.
Chorus And we bloom on forever Your memory to inflame No cold East wind will sever Our nation from our name. A symbol of true bravery — We fought, this land to save, To cast away base slavery And win a poet’s grave.
— © Frank Callery, May 2016.