"Foggy Dew" by Cheryl Shantz

A Piano and Instrumental arrangement of the Irish tune "The Foggy Dew" by composer Cheryl Shantz. "The Foggy Dew" has been credited to Peadar Kearney who also wrote the national anthem of the Republic of Ireland. It has also been claimed that Canon Charles O'Neill wrote "Foggy Dew," but the actual authorship of this song remains unclear. "The Foggy Dew" is about the Easter Uprising of 1916, and encourages the Irish to fight for Ireland's cause, rather than for the British, as many men were doing in World War I. The song portrays the Irish fighting courageously like true heroes. In 1993 Cheryl arranged "The Foggy Dew" as a tribute to the heart-warming remembrance of a six-month stay in Dublin where the Irish people endeared themselves to her and stirred her ancestral roots. To see a listing of other folksong arrangements by Cheryl Shantz, visit the following website: http://cshantz.blogspot.com/ To see a listing of her original song compositions, visit the following website: http://cmshantz.blogspot.com/ For a listing of Cheryl Shantz's compositions for full orchestra visit: http://www.cherylshantz.blogspot.com/

The lyrics to "The Foggy Dew" are below. The Foggy Dew

As down the glen one Easter morn to a city fair rode I
There Armed lines of marching men in squadrons passed me by
No pipe did hum, no battle drum did sound its loud tattoo
But the Angelus Bell o'er the Liffey's swell rang out through the foggy dew

Right proudly high over Dublin Town they hung out the flag of war
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Suvla or Sud-El-Bar
And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through
While Britannia's Huns, with their long range guns sailed in through the foggy dew

Oh the night fell black, and the rifles' crack made perfidious Albion reel
In the leaden rain, seven tongues of flame did shine o'er the lines of steel
By each shining blade a prayer was said, that to Ireland her sons be true
But when morning broke, still the war flag shook out its folds in the foggy dew

'Twas England bade our wild geese go, that "small nations might be free";
Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves or the fringe of the great North Sea.
Oh, had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Cathal Brugha
Their graves we'd keep where the Fenians sleep, 'neath the shroud of the foggy dew.

Oh the bravest fell, and the Requiem bell rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide in the spring time of the year
And the world did gaze, in deep amaze, at those fearless men, but few,
Who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew

As back through the glen I rode again and my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with valiant men whom I never shall see more
But to and fro in my dreams I go and I kneel and pray for you,
For slavery fled, O glorious dead, when you fell in the foggy dew.