COME gather round me, Parnellites, <br />And praise our chosen man; <br />Stand upright on your legs awhile, <br />Stand upright while you can, <br />For soon we lie where he is laid, <br />And he is underground; <br />Come fill up all those glasses <br />And pass the bottle round. <br /> <br />And here's a cogent reason, <br />And I have many more, <br />He fought the might of England <br />And saved the Irish poor, <br />Whatever good a farmer's got <br />He brought it all to pass; <br />And here's another reason, <br />That parnell loved a lass. <br /> <br />And here's a final reason, <br />He was of such a kind <br />Every man that sings a song <br />Keeps Parnell in his mind. <br />For Parnell was a proud man, <br />No prouder trod the ground, <br />And a proud man's a lovely man, <br />So pass the bottle round. <br /> <br />The Bishops and the party <br />That tragic story made, <br />A husband that had sold hiS wife <br />And after that betrayed; <br />But stories that live longest <br />Are sung above the glass, <br />And Parnell loved his countrey <br />And parnell loved his lass.<br /><br />William Butler Yeats<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/come-gather-round-me-parnellites/
