The Children of `16 (Declan O'Rourke) In Dublin town one Easter morn a hundred years ago The Rebels led a rising from the city's GPO Brave heroes and their enemies fell, civilians in between And among the dead and fallen were the children of '16 Those children of the tenement slums who daily with their pals A brazen wild brigade sprang up between the two canals With their handcarts over cobblestone they rattled, skid and tore Barefooted as they scavenged through the crossfire and the gore A war zone of the capital the bombs and shelling made And snipers' bullets pierced and whipped the sulfured April haze There was fighting from the union to the mill above the green And it made a great excitement for the children of '16 Six days have bid the Rebels pay a grave and bloody toll But through their blood and martyrdom Republic soon was born High aloft its streets and buildings now their names can e'er be seen But still missing from the pages are the children of '16 Nor Pearse, nor Clarke, McDonagh nor the Connolly we know Would rest were they remembered on a pedestal alone And are they not the fathers of our nation proud and free And our sisters and our brothers then the children of '16
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