Whether on the scaffold high Or on the battle-field we die, Oh, what matter, when for Erin dear we fall.

Both David and Reggie have been wonderful servants to the Ireland team and rugby in general.

Out of Ireland have we come.
Great hatred, little room,
Maimed us at the start.
I carry from my mother's womb
A fanatic heart.

We . . . are no petty people. We are one of the great stocks of Burke; we are the people of Swift, the people of Emmet, the people of Parnell. We have created most of the modern literature of this country. We have created the best of its political intelligence.

If one could only teach the English how to talk, and the Irish how to listen, society would be quite civilized.

For dear is the Emerald Isle of the ocean, Whose daughters are fair as the foam of the wave, Whose sons unaccustom'd to rebel commotion, Tho' joyous, are sober--tho' peaceful, are brave.