Wolfe Tones - Song Of The Celts lyrics

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 Six mountains of prayer there altered to God CHORUS: The flower of the free, the heather, the heather The Britons and Scots and Irish together The Manx and the Welsh and Cornish forever Six nations are we, proud Celtic and free A blossom as red as the life's blood we shed And for liberty's cause against alien laws With Lochiel and O'Neill and Llewellyn drew steel For Alba's and Eirn's and Cambria's weal Let the Saxon and Dane bear the rule o'er the plain And the hem of God's robe is their scepter and globe And the lord of all light, revered in his height For heaven and earth blows up in his sight.