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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343960" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Bourke's Dream</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Lonely and sadly one night in November<br>I laid down my weary head in search of repose<br>On my wallet of straw, which I long shall remember,<br>Tired and weary I fell into a doze.<br>Tired from working hard<br>Down in the labour yard,<br>Night brought relief to my sad, aching brain.<br>Locked in my prison cell,<br>Surely an earthly hell,<br>I fell asleep and began for to dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dreamt that I stood on the green fields of Erin,<br>In joyous meditation that victory was won.<br>Surrounded by comrades, no enemy fearing.<br>&quot;Stand,&quot; was the cry, &quot;every man to his gun.&quot;<br>On came the Saxons then<br>Fighting our Fenian men,<br>Soon they'll reel back from our piked volunteers.<br>Loud was the fight and shrill,<br>Wexford and Vinegar Hill,<br>Three cheers for Father Murphy and the bold cavaliers.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dreamt that I saw our gallant commander<br>Seated on his charger in gorgeous array.<br>He wore green trimmed with gold and a bright shining sabre<br>On which sunbeams of Liberty shone brightly that day.<br>&quot;On,&quot; was the battle cry,<br>&quot;Conquer this day or die,<br>Sons of Hibernia, fight for Liberty!<br>Show neither fear nor dread,<br>Strike at the foeman's head,<br>Cut down horse, foot, and artillery!&quot;<br>I dreamt that the night was quickly advancing,<br>I saw the dead and dying on the green crimson plain.<br>Comrades I once knew well in death's sleep reposing,<br>Friends that I once loved but shall ne'er see again.<br>The green flag was waving high,<br>Under the bright blue sky,<br>And each man was singing most gloriously.<br>&quot;Come from your prison, Bourke,<br>We Irishmen have done our work,<br>God has been with us, and old Ireland is free.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I dreamt I was homeward, back over the mountain track,<br>With joy my mother fainted and gave a loud scream.<br>With the shock I awoke, just as the day had broke,<br>And found myself an exile, and 'twas all but a dream.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Andrew+Barton+Paterson">Andrew Barton Paterson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=343960" data-title="Bourke's Dream de Andrew Barton Paterson" data-description="Lonely and sadly one night in November
I laid down my weary head in search of repose
On my wallet of straw, which I long shall remember,
Tired and weary I fell into a doze.
Tired from working hard
Down in the labour yard,
Night brought relief to m..."></div>
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