CONNOLLY The man was all shot through that came to-day Into the barrack square; A soldier I -- I am not proud to say We killed him there; They brought him from the prison hospital. To see him in that chair I thought his smile would far more quickly call A man to prayer. Maybe we cannot understand this thing that make these rebels die; And yet all things love freedom and the Spring Clear in the sky! I think I would not do this deed again For all that I hold by; Gaze down my rifle at his breast - but then A soldier I. They say that he was kindly -- different, too Apart from all the rest; A lover of the poor; and all shot through His wounds ill drest, He came before us, faced us like a man, Who knew a deeper pain Than blows or bullets -- ere the world began; Died he in vain? Ready present! And he just smiling -- God! I felt my rifle shake. His wounds were opened out and round that chair Was one red lake; I swear his lips said "Fire!" when all was still Before my rifle spat That cursed lead -- And I was picked to kill A man like that. -- Liam MacGowan (contemporary) (James Connolly, executed May 1916)