We've got guns and ammunition, we know how to use them well, And when we meet the Saxon, we will drive them all to Hell; We've got to free our country and avenge all those who fell, So we still keep marching on! CHORUS III King George he is a coward, that no one can deny, When the Germans come to England, from there he'll have to fly; And if he comes to Ireland then, by God, he'll have to die, And we'll still go marching on! CHORUS IV When the Germans come to free us, we will lend a helping hand, For we believe they're just as good as any in the land, They're bound to win our rights for us, let England go be damned! And we'll still keep marching on! Here is the song of the Irish Volunteers, sung at all concerts held before the rising to get funds for rifles and ammunition. The Volunteers sang it whenever they marched, and I have been told the men in the rising of '67 also sang it. It was sung everywhere during the last rising. When we first withdrew to the College of Surgeons, Frank Robins sang it, and we all joined in the chorus: VOLUNTEER MARCHING SONG I'll sing you a song, a soldier's song, With a cheering, rousing chorus, As round the blazing camp-fire we throng, The starry heavens o'er us; Impatient for the coming fight, And, as we watch the dawning light, Here in the silence of the night We'll chant the soldier's song: CHORUS Soldiers are we whose lives are pledged to Ireland! Some have come from a land beyond the wave, Sworn to be free! No more our ancient sireland Shall shelter the despot and the slave! To-night we'll man the bearna booighill,[1] In Erin's cause come woe or weal, 'Mid cannon's roar or rifle's peal, We'll chant a soldier's song! 'Mid valleys green and towering crag, Our fathers fought before us, And conquered 'neath the same old flag That's proudly floating o'er us; We're children of a fighting race That never yet has known disgrace, And as we go our foe to face, We'll chant a soldier's song: CHORUS Sons of the Gael, men of the Pale, The long-watched day is breaking! The serried ranks of Innisfail Have set the tyrant quaking! But now our camp-fire's burning low, See in the east a silver glow! Out yonder waits the Saxon foe! Then chant a soldier's song: CHORUS The Fianna also had their songs. One of them, written by one of the Fianna boys, goes: Draw the sword ye Irish men! The sword is mightier than the pen! Fight the good old fight again To crush the old transgressor! Break the bonds of slavery! O great God, it cannot be That Gaels could ever bend the knee To England, their oppressor!