Sleep Under The Starry Plough

Beneath The Starry Plough

(James Connolly to his countryman, January, 2017)

Sleep under the Starry Plough — It’s the way you’re living now — I’m sorry my son, I know I promised better. But they have broken faith And forsook the caring state We signed with our blood, our love, letter by letter.

Chorus This wasn’t in our sacred proclamation, We wrought for the good, our own, our cherished nation. But now in the cold you sleep and pay the price, It wasn’t for this we made our sacrifice.

There is so little I can say To ease your pain today, Unless you stand up, they’ll trample and abuse! Their hearts are cold and hard, And filled with disregard For the needy, the poor, the ones with most to lose.

Chorus Now is the time to rise and make things better! Take the promise we made in our nation’s finest letter. It was written in our blood, to the children then and now, Those who make their bed beneath the Starry Plough.

This wasn’t in our sacred proclamation, We wrought for the good, our own, our cherished nation. But now in the cold you sleep and pay the price, It wasn’t for this we made our sacrifice.

O it wasn’t for this we made our sacrifice.

— © Frank Callery, January 18th, 2017.