Chords for Beltaine Foggy dew

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[Am] She was down the glen [G] when Hester born, [Am] to a city [G] _ [Am] paradise. _
_ There are more red lines [G] of marching men, [Am] in [G] squadrons passed [Am] nearby. _
_ And no [C] pipe did call, [G] no battle [C] drum, [Am] they saw [G] the [Am] streets that's all.
But the angels bell [G] over lift this well, [Am] ringing [G] through the [Am] foggy dew. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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[Am] _ Bright proudly high [G] in Dublin town, [Am] they hung [G] out the flag [Am] of war.
It was better to die [G] in an Irish sky, [Am] than on Soulev [G]-Lars to [Am] Delbor.
And [C] from the plains [G] of [C] royal mates, [Am] strong men [G] came [Am] hurrying through.
While bridge only has hands [G] with a long range guns, [Am] sailing [G] through the [Am] foggy dew. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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[A] _ She's in Glen Bay, [G] the well-white heath, though [Am] this [G] malnation might [A] be free.
[Am] But still all the graves [G] are once Soulev-Lars, where they [A] start the shroud [G] of the great [A] North Sea.
[C] Oh, have they died [G] by a few [C] suicide, [Am] or fought [G] well against [A] _ _
_ _ _ the old heath.
[G] When the flames of [Am] the slow [G] down the [Am] foggy dew. _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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But the _ bravest _ fell and [G] the wreck-firm back, _ _ [C] rang _ _ [G] mournfully _ _ [Am] and clear. _ _ _ _
For _ those who _ died, [G] that's Easter _ time, in [F] the _ springtime [Em] _ _
of [Am] the _ _ _ _ _ heath.
[C] The world is _ gazed [G] in deep _ [C] _
amazement, as [Am] those _ fearless [G] _
men.
[F] But _ few _ [Am] _
_ will bore the _ price, [G] so _ freedom's light, _ might [F] shine through [Em] this foggy dew.
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