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Author: Thomas Osborne Davis
File DescriptionT. W. Rolleston
Electronic edition compiled and proof corrections by Beatrix Färber
1. First draft, revised and corrected.
Extent of text: 875 words
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Text ID Number: E850004-033
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- First published in the Nation 1 March 1843.
Other writings by Thomas Davis
- Thomas Davis, Essays Literary and Historical, ed. by D. J. O'Donoghue, Dundalk 1914.
- Sir Charles Gavan Duffy (ed.), Thomas Davis, the memoirs of an Irish patriot, 1840-1846. 1890. [Reprinted entitled 'Thomas Davis' with an introduction of Brendan Clifford. Millstreet, Aubane Historical Society, 2000.]
- Thomas Davis: selections from his prose and poetry. [Edited] with an introduction by T. W. Rolleston. London and Leipzig: T. Fisher Unwin (Every Irishman's Library). 1910. [Published in Dublin by the Talbot press, 1914.]
- Thomas Osborne Davis, Literary and historical essays 1846. Reprinted 1998, Washington, DC: Woodstock Books.
- Essays of Thomas Davis. New York, Lemma Pub. Corp. 1974, 1914 [Reprint of the 1914 ed. published by W. Tempest, Dundalk, Ireland, under the title 'Essays literary and historical'.]
- Thomas Davis: essays and poems, with a centenary memoir, 1845-1945. Dublin, M.H. Gill and Son, 1945. [Foreword by an Taoiseach, Éamon de Valera.]
- Angela Clifford, Godless colleges and mixed education in Ireland: extracts from speeches and writings of Thomas Wyse, Daniel O'Connell, Thomas Davis, Charles Gavan Duffy, Frank Hugh O'Donnell and others. Belfast: Athol, 1992.
Thomas Osborne Davis Tone's Grave in , Ed. T. W. Rolleston Thomas Davis: Selections from his prose and poetry. The Talbot Press, Dublin and London, () page 333334
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Created: by Thomas Davis
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Corpus of Electronic Texts Edition: E850004-033
Tone's Grave: Author: Thomas Osborne Davis
- In Bodenstown Churchyard there is a green grave,
And wildly along it the winter winds rave;
Small shelter, I ween, are the ruined walls there,
When the storm sweeps down on the plains of Kildare.
- Once I lay on that sodit lies over Wolfe Tone
And thought how he perished in prison alone,
His friends unavenged, and his country unfreed
Oh, bitter, I said, is the patriot's meed!
- 'For in him the heart of a woman combined
With a heroic life and a governing mind
A martyr for Irelandhis grave has no stone
His name seldom named, and his virtues unknown.'
- I was woke from my dream by the voices and tread
Of a band who came into the home of the dead;
They carried no corpse, and they carried no stone,
And they stopped when they came to the grave of Wolfe Tone.
- There were students and peasants, the wise and the brave,
And an old man who knew him from cradle to grave;
And children who thought me hard-hearted; for they
On that sanctified sod, were forbidden to play.
- But the old man, who saw I was mourning there, said:
'We come, sir, to weep where young Wolfe Tone is laid,
And we're going to raise him a monument too
A plain one, yet fit for the simple and true.'
- My heart overflowed, and I clasped his old hand,
And I blessed him, and blessed every one of his band:
Sweet, sweet 'tis to find that such faith can remain
To the cause, and the man so long vanquished and slain!
- In Bodenstown Churchyard, there is a green grave,
And freely around it, let the winter winds rave
Far better thay suit himthe ruin and the gloom
Till Ireland, a Nation, can build him a tomb.