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Henry Lawson - Ireland Shall Rebel
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WHILE tyrants rule the land,
    Beneath the Irish skies;
While e’er the iron hand
    Upon our people lies;
While sons are driven forth
    In other lands to dwell,
Still in the South and North
    Old Ireland will rebel!
        Rebel, rebel!
    Old Ireland will rebel!

While fanlike from below,
    And pale against the skies,
That light of shame—the glow
    Of burning homes—shall rise;
While hot indignant tears
    From Irish hearts shall swell:—
Be it a thousand years,
    Old Ireland will rebel!
        Rebel, rebel!
    Old Ireland will rebel!

Until the tyrant’s rod
    Shall broken be in twain,
And on the dear old sod
    Blest freedom treads again;
Or till our masters learn
    To rule our country well,
The fires of hate shall burn!—
    Old Ireland will rebel!
        Rebel, rebel!
    Old Ireland will rebel!
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