Song of the Celts - Wolfe Tones (lyrics).

SONG OF THE CELTS : There’s a blossom that blows, that scoffs at the snows, And it faces root-fast the rage of the blast. It sweetens the sod no slave ever trod Since the mountains upreared their altars to God. CHORUS: The flower of the free, the heather, the heather, The Bretons and Scots and Irish together, The Manx and the Welsh and Cornish forever, Six nations are we, Proud Celtic and free. Our blossom is red as the life’s blood we shed For Liberty’s cause against alien laws When Lochiel and O’Neill