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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=476327" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Roger Casement</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=476327" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">THEY have hanged Roger Casement to the tolling<br>of a bell,<br>Ochone, och, ochone, ochone!<br>And their Smiths, and their Murrays, and their Cecils say it's well,<br>Ochone, och, ochone, ochone!<br>But there are outcast peoples to lift that<br>spirit high,<br>Flayed men and breastless women who laboured<br>fearfully,<br>And they will lift him, lift him, for the eyes<br>of God to see,<br>And it's well, after all, Roger Casement!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=476327" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">They've ta'en his strangled body from the gallows to the pit,<br>Ochone, och, ochone, ochone!<br>And the flame that eats into it, the quicklime, brought to it,<br>Ochone, och, ochone, ochone!<br>To waste that noble stature, the grave and brightening face,<br>In which courtesy and kindliness had eminence of place,<br>But they they'll die to dust which the wind will take a-pace,<br>While 'twas yours to die to fire, Roger Casement!</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Padraic+Colum">Padraic Colum</a></strong></div>

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