The man was all shot through that came to day into the
Barrack Square
And a soldier I, I am not proud to say that we killed
him there
They brought him from the prison hospital and to see
him in that chair
I swear his smile would, would far more quickly call a
man to prayer
Maybe, maybe I don't understand this thing that makes
these rebels die
Yet all men love freedom and the spring clear in the
sky
I wouldn't do this deed again for all that I hold by
As I gazed down my rifle at his breast but then, then a
soldier I.
They say he was different, kindly too apart from all
the rest.
A lover of the poor-his wounds ill dressed.
He faced us like a man who knew a greater pain
Than blows or bullets ere the world began: died he in
vain
Ready, Present, and him just smiling, Christ I felt my
rifle shake
His wounds all open and around his chair a pool of
blood
And I swear his lips said, 'fire' before my rifle shot
that cursed lead
And I, I was picked to kill a man like that, James
Connolly
A great crowd had gathered outside of Kilmainham
Their heads all uncovered, they knelt to the ground.
For inside that grim prison
Lay a great Irish soldier
His life for his country about to lay down.
He went to his death like a true son of Ireland
The firing party he bravely did face
Then the order rang out: Present arms and fire
James Connolly fell into a ready-made grave
The black flag was hoisted, the cruel deed was over
Gone was the man who loved Ireland so well
There was many a sad heart in Dublin that morning
When they murdered James Connolly-. the Irish rebel
