Fenian Exile is a Blog of Radio Rebel Gael

I see his blood upon the rose
And in the stars the glory of his eyes,
His body gleams amid eternal snows,
His tears fall from the skies.
I see his face in every flower
The thunder and the singing of the birds
Are but his Voice --- and carven by his power
Rocks are his written words.

- Last Poem written by Joseph Plunkett, that he gave to his wife Grace before his execution on May 4th, 1916.