The Last Moments of Daniel O’Connell
This song is from the collection of Broadside Ballads held by the National Library of Scotland - ‘Leabharlann na h-Alba’. It was printed by BIRT, Printer, 39, Great St. Andrew Street, Seven Dials, London. circa 1848. Daniel O'Connell, 69, died in Genoa, Italy at 9.37pm on Saturday, May 15, 1847, while making a pilgrimage to the Eternal City of Rome. When news of his death reached Ireland there was an out-pouring of grief. The verses below are just one example of the many songs composed in honour of the great man.
Source: Broadside ballad (BIRT Printers circa 1848) National Library of Scotland - ‘Leabharlann na h-Alba’.
Air: Poor Irish Stranger
A voice from old Erin, so sad and endearing,
So mournful in sorrow did say-
We’ve lost our champion of freedom, O’Connell
In his tomb he in silence does lay.
Many years did he struggle our rights to maintain,
And to ease old Hibernia of sorrow and pain,
We shall not behold his equal again,
He is gone we shall never see him more.
His dear native land he loved to distraction,
The foes did him daily surround,
He strove with all might to gain satisfaction,
And his enemies crush to the ground.
Glories for Erin he manfully won,
Revered and respected by all Erin’s sons,
His days now are ended, his labour is done,
He is gone we shall never see him more.
In Carlow, in Antrim and famed Londonderry,
They in sorrow for Daniel do weep,
In Limerick, Waterford, Galway and Kerry,
They say he in glory does sleep.
In Belfast, in Mayo, Tralee and Tyrone,
They weep for the son of the great Church of Rome,
Erin’s wanderers he struggled to bring to their home,
But he is gone; we shall never see him more.
Full forty years for honour and freedom,
Brave Daniel O’Connell did fight,
Although in a prison his foes did confine him,
He struggled for poor Erin’s right.
He was bold, undaunted, loyal and brave,
From oppression his country he struggled to save,
But now in death’s arms he is laid in the grave,
He is gone, we shall never see him more.
Oh! Weep old Hibernia in silence and sorrow,
And cause all thy children to mourn,
He is gone! He is dead! His spirit has fled,
From whence he can never return.
He was undaunted, brave, valiant and bold,
The sufferings of Erin so often he told,
Write Daniel O’Connell in letters of Gold,
He is gone, we shall never see him more.
His glories by Erin shall be long recorded,
While his glory in spirit shall shine,
For he was a son, a true son of Hibernia,
His equal we never shall find.
He was true to his country, his Church, and his Queen,
He was proud of the sweet little shamrock so green,
On the hills of Clontarf he by the thousands was seen
But he is gone, we shall never see him more.
Oh! Daniel my darling, in sorrow said Erin,
O’Connell, sweet Gramachree (Grá mo Chroí)
For thee we shall weep, our sweet patriot noble,
Thy like we shall never more see.
If we search the world over his like we can’t find,
Valiant, courageous, and noble in mind,
His name in bright glory for ever will shine,
He is gone, we shall never see him more.