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Tribute to the 'Big Fella' by Humphrey Murphey Bear him to that hallowed place, Where our deathless dead are resting; Where the spokesmen of our race Gather for the final questing. 'Mid the statesmen who have died, 'Mid the orators and writers, Make a splendid grave and wide, For this peerless prince of fighters. Press the kindly Irish earth On the breast so broad and fearless, Veil that laughing face, whose mirth Vanished, leaves us poor and cheerless. When the tempest lashed our land And the feeble lights had dwindled; He 'twas held the gleaming brand Where the fires of warfare kindled. Fearless, agile, unafraid, Cool to watch and cordon tightening; Rallying the half-dismayed, Teaching how to strike like lightning. God-like in the work achieved, Sunshine flashed through clouds of terror Still the captain unrelieved, Strove with faction, pride and error. Chivalrous, he fought his fight, Kindly, patient, unrevealing; Hopeful that the dawning light Would reveal the nation smiling. Lay his body in the earth, Giant frame and soul are riven, Think of Collins in his mirth And his prayer, "Be they forgiven." Miceal O'Coileain |
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