Commandant Clinton

By Patrick Tunney

Jim Clinton was involved in the Newport Ambush of Free State troops in 1923.

Dear Clinton, true soldier, I miss you today,
For your soul, with devotion I fervently pray.
Though I sing your Requiem, I grieve your demise,
‘Til Ireland from slavery will truly arise.
As a soldier of Érin you took a great stand,
‘Gainst the might and the throes of a cruel sordid band.
Your zeal and your prowess did fan Tans surprise,
That Ireland from slavery would truly arise.
When Banba lay sleeping quiet; dormant and cold,
A flame you entorched ‘neath the green, white and gold.
That the powers of England will ne’er anglicise,
That Ireland from slavery might truly arise.
You battled for freedom right true to the core,
When the Tans were assailed on the heights of Shramore.
By Skirdagh and Furness your prayers rent the skies,
That Ireland from slavery might truly arise.
Your fight was for Ireland, a fight for the cause,
You feared not machine guns or cruel Saxon laws.
You fought against the traitors and tyrants and spies,
That Ireland from slavery might truly arise.
In cold British dungeons, encompassed by fear,
You scorned the dangling of bright glistening spears.
You, still persevered, there was no compromise,
‘Til Ireland from slavery would truly arise.
No more will you martial your brave fighting men,
No more will you skirmish o’er the mountain or glen.
No, Gránua’s vast legions you’ll ne’er mobilize,
Though Ireland from slavery will truly arise.
No more will you strike for your county and God,
With the peal of your rifle by Nephin’s green sod.
For nigh Nephin’s cold bosom your stilled body lies,
‘Til Ireland from slavery will truly arise.
May your spirit inspire the men of to-day,
To carry your banner unsullied away.
May your slogan, untainted, re-echo the skies,
‘Til Ireland from slavery will truly arise.
I pray that loved Ireland may always have men,
Who’ll long for the sunburst o’er mountain and glen.
That no Saxon intriguing could e’er by hypnotise,
‘Til Ireland from slavery will truly arise.
Calm be your sleep in bright regions of rest,
Away from fair Newport, the place you loved the best.
May your soul rest in peace and home ‘yond the skies,
And that Ireland from slavery may truly arise.