Longing

Written by Patrick Tunney, Cushlough while a prisoner in Rath, Curragh Camp, Kildare, 1921

I’m longing, ever longing,
Longing for lone West Mayo.
With its rills and lofty mountains,
Heath-clad hills and gushing fountains.
Ah, my heart is ever longing,
To be back in West Mayo.
I’m longing, ever longing,
Longing for another day.
When upon the field of danger,
I could face the Saxon stranger.
Ah, my heart is ever longing,
For the gleam of Freedom’s ray.
I’m longing, ever longing,
Longing for my comrades dear.
Who’re now fighting hard for freedom,
Gallant soldiers, May God speed them.
Ah, my heart is ever longing,
For the goal that I revere.
I’m longing, ever longing,
Longing ‘til we break the chain.
That surrounds my native Ireland,
Holds in bondage mother Ireland.
Ah, my heart is ever longing,
‘Til we burst its links entwain.
I’m longing, ever longing,
Longing for the coming day.
When our Nation, ever glorious,
Will be happy and victorious.
Ah, my heart is ever longing,
To be free from Saxon sway.
I’m longing, ever longing,
Longing for the Golden Ray.
Irish Freedom, Independent,
Won’t the luster be resplendent.
Ah, my heart is ever longing,
God to grant the happy day.