LOUISVILLE'S GREETING TO
ERIN'S SONS.
They are coming—the clans
are all coming;
The pibroch is sounding, they're coming in force;
From the East and the West, from the North and the South,
They're coming, they're coming from every source.
From the Foyle and the Shannon, from the
Boyne and the Tweed, the clans will be here.
Sons of brave sires, the pride of our race,
We shall take to our hearts without rival or peer.
From Scotia and Erin our
brothers are coming,
From Down and from Derry, as brave as of old;
From the field and the forum, the pulpit and bench,
Our kinsmen are coming as sterling as gold.
Throw open your gates, "Falls City," to-day,
That heroes may enter and partake of thy cheer;
Let Kentucky give welcome with unstinted hand
To those leaders of men who are now gathered here.
On the wings of the past let
memory come
To bring back again the thoughts that have slept,
To give back to us now in those heroes we greet
The sires o'er whose graves all patriots wept;
To bring back to our day the courage and will,
The manhood that shines in the darkest of hours,
The endurance that braved when all seemed as lost,
And cultured the wilds with the bloom of the flowers.
In the name of the past and
all that it holds,
In the name of the valor your example inspires,
For the lessons of wisdom you have given to man,
We greet you as the sons of time-honored sires.
— William McCready, an
Ulsterman. |