At last they threw open the big prison-gate, An' out came the sheriffs and sojers in state, An' a cart in the middle an' Shamus was in it, Not paler, but prouder than ever, that minute. An' as soon as the people saw Shamus O'Brien, Wid prayin' and blessin', and all the girls cryin', A wild, wailin' sound kem on by degrees, Like the sound of the lonesome wind blowin' through trees. On, on to the gallows the sheriffs are gone, An' the cart an' the sojers go steadily on; An' at every side swellin' around of the cart, A wild, sorrowful sound, that id open your heart. Now under the gallows the cart takes its stand, An' the hangman gets up with the rope in his hand; An' the priest, havin' blest him, goes down on the ground, An' Shamus O'Brien throws one last look round.
Then the hangman dhrew near, an' the people grew still, Young faces turned sickly, and warm hearts turned chill; An' the rope bein' ready, his neck was made bare, For the grip of the life-strangling cord to prepare; An' the good priest has left him, havin' said his last prayer. But the good priest did more, for his hands he unbound, An' with one daring spring Jim has leaped on the ground; Bang! bang! go the carbines, and clash go the sabers; He's not down! he's alive! now stand to him, neighbors! Through the smoke and the horses he's into the crowd,-- By the heavens, he's free!--than thunder more loud, By one shout from the people the heavens were shaken-- One shout that the dead of the world might awaken. The sojers ran this way, the sheriffs ran that, An' Father Malone lost his new Sunday hat; To-night he'll be sleepin' in Aherloe Glin, An' the divil's in the dice if you catch him ag'in. Your swords they may glitter, your carbines go bang, But if you want hangin', it's yourselves you must hang.
If all the ships I have at sea-- Should come a-sailing home to me, Ah well! the harbor could not hold So many ships as there would be, If all my ships came home to me.
If half my ships now out at sea Should come a-sailing home to me, Ah well! I should have wealth as great As any king that sits in state, So rich the treasure there would be In half my ships now out at sea.
If but one ship I have at sea Should come a-sailing home to me, Ah well! the storm clouds then might frown, For if the others all went down, Still rich and glad and proud I'd be, If that one ship came home to me.