Reflections (The Rays That Shone)

Old Moore’s Almanac By P. Tunney, Derrykillew, Westport

My tears they fall when I recall,
The story of our land.
When every flame of Irish fame,
Was pillaged, outlawed, banned.
Ere Norman hordes with bloody swords,
Our sacred shrines laid low.
And trampled on the rays that shone,
And lit up fair Mayo.
My heart sighs sore for the days of yore,
When Ireland’s sons were true.
When naught but peace and love and ease,
Ruled Éire through and through.
Ere greed and gain inspired the Dane,
Our rights to overthrow.
And trample on the rays that shone,
And lit up fair Mayo.
Long years ago no Saxon foe,
Our great forefathers knew.
‘Til Cromwell’s band did invade our land,
To conquer and subdue.
Our people rose ‘gainst mighty foes,
Who steered a train of woe.
To trample on the rays that shone,
And lit up fair Mayo.
Through ages long a faithful throng,
Opposed imported laws.
No Saxon Huns or long range guns,
Could quell the Irish cause.
In ninety-eight our people great,
Stood fast against the foe.
Who trampled on the rays that shone,
And lit up fair Mayo.
In recent years brave volunteers,
Were marshalled by MacBride.
Who paved the way, who led the fray,
And showed how martyrs died.
Stained England’s red showed them no dread,
To her might they’d never bow.
Whilst she trampled on the rays that shone,
And lit up fair Mayo.
Oh, where’s the fame, the lore, the name,
That once to Éire clung.
When o’er her hills and by her rills,
Was heard the Gaelic tongue.
Is our ancient sway all gone for aye,
Or conquered by the foe.
Who trampled on the rays that shone,
And lit up fair Mayo.