The Bravest Boy
The morning mist, calmly settling,
The early birds, meekly calling,
In a stone cold prison cell,
A boy awaits his death to quell.
His dark eyes glisten without tears,
His proud heart stands without fears,
The Irish blood, his veins do run,
Shall be halted with the rising sun.
Good Father Waters guides his way,
Still, never would his soft feet stray,
Looking up with eyes alight,
He sees the gallows in morning light.
Stepping on the hardened stair,
He looks about for those who care,
But cruelty in the Englishmen,
Allow no family to attend.
The rope about his neck is placed,
Like criminal's fate is all disgraced,
He looks to the sky and he prays,
God save Ireland in future days.
One tear does touch his proud young eyes,
For Ireland's cause thus he dies,
He wished that he could stay and fight,
And crush the tyrants cruel delight.
The floor then fell, his life has flown,
Standing now before God's throne,
His body, limp, is taken down,
His enemies linger all around.
Laid to sodden, lonely rest,
By foes that all did detest,
His glory and his sacrifice,
They do think he paid the price.
What price was paid besides the love,
To die for country all above,
What evil is there in love of land,
To stand and obey every command?
Englishmen think they hold strong might,
But quiver and quail in the battles fight,
How can they say that they are just,
When to kill a boy they say they must?
Liars, tyrants, killers all,
And one day, their flag shall fall
In that day please remember he,
The bravest boy, Kevin Barry.
This poem is copyrighted