‘Ode Triumphal’ by Canon Sheehan
I
Sing thy triumph to the nations, O my country! in thy glory;
Now thy feet are winged with victory, and swiftly bear thee on;
And thy children fear no longer
Shadowy past or dim hereafter,
For the winds are light with laughter
And the days are bright with song
II
In thy bosom, O my country! are the fairest flowers unfolding,
Every lifted cloud of sorrow falls in flowing light on thee,
For thy faith at length availeth,
And thy love-smile still unbroken
Sways each present sign and token
As the sea-wind sways the sea.
III
Thou art clothed, O my country! in the garments of thy gladness,
And I see no armour round thee, nor the shining light of steel,
For in peace thy ways are woven,
And thy strength is sphered in duty,
Showing the divinest beauty
That a nation can reveal.
IV
And thy banners, O my country I bring no war
clouds, nor the tempest —
Softly float they on the fair winds flowing from the
vault of blue,
Flaming ancient signs and holy
Of the brave ones gone before us,
And the wild winds wave a chorus
To their glories sweet and true.
V
And thy future, O my country! shall it grow in gathering’ splendour?
Shall thy martyred priests' and patriots' blood make fertile fields for thee?
Keep thy memories fair and fragrant.
And thy valour’s ancient glory,
Folded now in song and story
Long will bloom in liberty.