The Dubliners - Saxon Shilling lyrics
[The Dubliners - Saxon Shilling lyrics]
Hark, a martial sound is heard
The march of soldiers, fifing, drumming
Eyes are starting, hearts are stirred
For bold recruit's the brave are coming
Ribands flaunting, feathers gay
The sound and sights are surely thrilling
Dazzled village youths today
Will crowd to take the Saxon Shilling
Ye, whose spirit's will not bow
In peace to parish tyrants longer
Ye, who wear the villain brow
And ye who pine in hopeless hunger
Fools, without the brave man’s faith
All slaves and starvelings who are willing
To sell themselves to shame and death
Accept the fatal Saxon Shilling
Go, to find, ‘mid crime and toil
The doom to which such guilt is hurried
Go, to leave on Indian soil
Your bones to bleach, accursed, unburied!
Go, to crush the just and brave
Whose wrongs with wrath the world are filling
Go, to slay each brother slave
Or spurn the blood-stained Saxon Shilling!
Irish hearts, why should you bleed
To swell the tide of British glory
Aiding despots in their need
Who’ve changed our green so oft to gory?
None, save those who wish to see
The noblest killed, the meanest killing
And the true hearts severed from the free
Will take again the Saxon Shilling!
Irish youths, reserve your strength
Until an hour of glorious duty
When freedom’s smile shall cheer at length
The land of bravery and beauty
Bribes and threats, oh, heed no more
Let naught but justice make you willing
To leave your own dear island shore
For those to send a Saxon Shilling
The march of soldiers, fifing, drumming
Eyes are starting, hearts are stirred
For bold recruit's the brave are coming
Ribands flaunting, feathers gay
The sound and sights are surely thrilling
Dazzled village youths today
Will crowd to take the Saxon Shilling
Ye, whose spirit's will not bow
In peace to parish tyrants longer
Ye, who wear the villain brow
And ye who pine in hopeless hunger
Fools, without the brave man’s faith
All slaves and starvelings who are willing
To sell themselves to shame and death
Accept the fatal Saxon Shilling
Go, to find, ‘mid crime and toil
The doom to which such guilt is hurried
Go, to leave on Indian soil
Your bones to bleach, accursed, unburied!
Go, to crush the just and brave
Whose wrongs with wrath the world are filling
Go, to slay each brother slave
Or spurn the blood-stained Saxon Shilling!
Irish hearts, why should you bleed
To swell the tide of British glory
Aiding despots in their need
Who’ve changed our green so oft to gory?
None, save those who wish to see
The noblest killed, the meanest killing
And the true hearts severed from the free
Will take again the Saxon Shilling!
Irish youths, reserve your strength
Until an hour of glorious duty
When freedom’s smile shall cheer at length
The land of bravery and beauty
Bribes and threats, oh, heed no more
Let naught but justice make you willing
To leave your own dear island shore
For those to send a Saxon Shilling