Yeats' poem about The O'Rahilly, which I don't think has been set to music (unfortunately it has the same meter as Yellow Rose of Texas, the tune to which I sometimes sing Emily Dickinson poems. But I digress)

because I helped to wind the clock
I come to hear it strike

(O'Rahilly explaining to Pearse and Connolly why he was fighting in the Easter Rebellion having argued so strongly in private against a rising)