Use our chord converter to play the song in other keys. The words were written by Thomas Davis, who lived in Dublin and was a prominent figure in the nationalist movement in the 1840s. The opening lines of the song with their reference to ancient Greece and Rome reflect Davis’ classical education at Trinity College, Dublin.
Davis composed many other songs and lyrics but sadly died in 1845, aged 30.
That hope has shone a far light
Nor could love’s brightest summer glow
Outshine that solemn starlight
It seemed to watch above my head
In forum, field and fane
Its angel voice sang round my bed:
A nation once again!
Chorus
It whisper’d, too, that freedom’s ark
And service high and holy
Would be profaned by feelings dark
And passion vain or lowly,
For Freedom comes from God’s right hand
And needs a godly train,
And righteous men must make our land
A nation once again!
Chorus
So as I grew from boy to man
I bent me to that bidding.
My spirit of each selfish plan
And cruel passion ridding
For thus I hoped someday to aid,
Oh can such hope be vain
When my dear country shall be made
A nation once again!
[G]When boyhood’s [Em]fire was [G]in my [G7]blood,
I
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read of
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ancient
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freemen.
For Greece and
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Rome who
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bravely
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stood
Three
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hundred
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men and three men.
And then I
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prayed I
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yet might
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see our
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fetters rent in twain
And
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Ireland
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long a
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province, be a
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nation
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once
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again.
Chorus
A nation
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once
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again,
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nation once
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again,
And
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Ireland
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long a
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Em
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province
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be
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nation
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once
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again.
And from that time, through wildest woe, that hope has shone a far light
Nor could love’s brightest summer glow outshine that solemn starlight
It seemed to watch above my head in forum, field and fane
Its angel voice sang round my bed: A nation once again!
Chorus
It whisper’d, too, that freedom’s ark and service high and holy
Would be profaned by feelings dark and passion vain or lowly
For Freedom comes from God’s right hand and needs a godly train
And righteous men must make our land a nation once again!
Chorus
So as I grew from boy to man I bent me to that bidding
My spirit of each selfish plan and cruel passion ridding
For thus I hoped someday to aid, oh can such hope be vain
When my dear country shall be made a nation once again!
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