We have just celebrated Easter, with eggs, processions and the monk Bede. Now we turn to another Easter: Easter 1916, when a small group of Irish rebels seized the centre of Dublin and declared an Irish Republic.
Learn from Songs · Festivals: Easter Rising · Part 1 of 3 · B2–C1
The Rebel
Part 1 of the Easter Rising series: Patrick Pearse’s poem “The Rebel”, written about a year before he led the Rising of 1916. The language of rhetoric (repetition, parallel structures, Beware…!), relative clauses with whom and whose, old-fashioned forms (ye, I am come, for that), and how to weigh two views of a revolution, with Philo, Sophia, Marcos and Demetria.
SOPHIA
MARCOS
Did they win?
SOPHIA
Not that week. They surrendered after six days, and most of their leaders were executed. But within six years most of Ireland was independent. Tonight we read a poem by their leader, Patrick Pearse, a teacher and poet, written about a year before.
PHILO
A teacher who led a rebellion. That is not something you see every day.
Before you listen: the song
Dublin, about 1915
Patrick Pearse (1879–1916) was a Dublin teacher, lawyer and poet. His father was an English stonemason who had settled in Dublin; his mother was Irish. Pearse loved the Irish language, founded a bilingual school, St Enda’s, and came to believe that Ireland could only be free through an armed rising.
On Easter Monday, 24 April 1916, about 1,200 Irish Volunteers and members of the Irish Citizen Army took over the General Post Office and other buildings in Dublin. Pearse read the Proclamation of the Irish Republic outside the GPO. The British Army brought in thousands of soldiers and artillery, and on Saturday 29 April Pearse surrendered. About 485 people died, more than half of them civilians. Pearse and fifteen other leaders were executed.
At first many Dubliners were angry with the rebels, whose fighting had destroyed the city centre at a time when thousands of Irishmen were serving in the British Army in France. The executions changed many minds. In “The Rebel”, written about a year before, Pearse speaks for a people he believes have been oppressed for centuries, and warns their masters: beware of the risen people.
Words can move people to great deeds, so we must weigh them carefully.
The Rebel
Patrick Pearse (1879–1916)
I am come of the seed of the people, the people that sorrow,
That have no treasure but hope,
No riches laid up but a memory
Of an Ancient glory.
My mother bore me in bondage, in bondage my mother was born,
I am of the blood of serfs;
The children with whom I have played, the men and women with whom I have eaten,
Have had masters over them, have been under the lash of masters,
And, though gentle, have served churls;
The hands that have touched mine, the dear hands whose touch is familiar to me,
Have worn shameful manacles, have been bitten at the wrist by manacles,
Have grown hard with the manacles and the task-work of strangers,
I am flesh of the flesh of these lowly, I am bone of their bone,
I that have never submitted;
I that have a soul greater than the souls of my people’s masters,
I that have vision and prophecy and the gift of fiery speech,
I that have spoken with God on the top of His holy hill.
And because I am of the people, I understand the people,
I am sorrowful with their sorrow, I am hungry with their desire:
My heart has been heavy with the grief of mothers,
My eyes have been wet with the tears of children,
I have yearned with old wistful men,
And laughed or cursed with young men;
Their shame is my shame, and I have reddened for it,
Reddened for that they have served, they who should be free,
Reddened for that they have gone in want, while others have been full,
Reddened for that they have walked in fear of lawyers and of their jailors
With their writs of summons and their handcuffs,
Men mean and cruel!
I could have borne stripes on my body rather than this shame of my people.
And now I speak, being full of vision;
I speak to my people, and I speak in my people’s name to the masters of my people.
I say to my people that they are holy, that they are august, despite their chains,
That they are greater than those that hold them, and stronger and purer,
That they have but need of courage, and to call on the name of their God,
God the unforgetting, the dear God that loves the peoples
For whom He died naked, suffering shame.
And I say to my people’s masters: Beware,
Beware of the thing that is coming, beware of the risen people,
Who shall take what ye would not give.
Did ye think to conquer the people,
Or that Law is stronger than life and than men’s desire to be free?
We will try it out with you, ye that have harried and held,
Ye that have bullied and bribed, tyrants, hypocrites, liars!
Words in the poem
sorrow: to feel deep sadness
bondage: slavery, captivity
serfs: poor farm workers who were not free
the lash: a whip
churls: rude, low men
manacles: iron rings for the wrists, handcuffs
task-work: hard work given by others
lowly: humble, of low rank
submitted: gave in, obeyed
wistful: sadly longing
reddened: gone red with shame
gone in want: been poor, hungry
writs of summons: legal orders to appear in court
stripes: marks of a whip
august: noble, majestic
harried: attacked again and again
bribed: paid to act dishonestly
Read and listen: the voice of the poem
PHILO
Read the poem, then listen to it. Who is speaking? Who is he speaking to in the last part? How does his tone change?
SOPHIA
Then answer Section A. Don’t worry about every word: look at the glossary as you read.
📜 Listen to the song: “The Rebel” (Patrick Pearse, c. 1915).Listen to the poem →
📜 Read the poem at the Corpus of Electronic Texts, University College Cork.Read the lyrics →
The language of rhetoric: repetition and parallel structures
MARCOS
I that have never submitted; I that have a soul…; I that have vision… Reddened for that… Reddened for that… Beware, beware…
SOPHIA
Speakers and poets repeat the same structure to build power: this is parallelism. Count the repetitions in each stanza. Famous speeches use it too: We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds…
Relative clauses with whom and whose
DEMETRIA
The children with whom I have played. The men and women with whom I have eaten. The dear hands whose touch is familiar to me.
SOPHIA
In formal English the preposition goes before whom: the friend with whom I travelled. In everyday English: the friend I travelled with. whose = belonging to whom: the man whose house burned down.
Old-fashioned forms
PHILO
I am come = I have come. ye = you (plural). for that = because. what ye would not give = what you refused to give. Did ye think to conquer…? = Did you expect to conquer…?
SOPHIA
Pearse uses old forms on purpose, like the language of the Bible, to make the poem sound solemn and timeless. Notice that he also echoes Adam’s words in Genesis: bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh.
Two views of the Rising: reporting verbs
MARCOS
Many Irish people argue that the Rising was a heroic act that led to Irish independence, and that the Proclamation promised equal rights to all citizens, women included.
SOPHIA
Others, including some Irish historians, point out that the rebels had no vote from the Irish people, that Ireland had already been promised Home Rule, that most of the dead were civilians, and they criticise Pearse’s idea of a “blood sacrifice”. The poet W. B. Yeats wrote that the Rising changed everything: a terrible beauty is born. Read, weigh, and decide.
Sophia’s comparison: Moses before Pharaoh, and Demosthenes
PHILO
Moses stood before Pharaoh and said: Let my people go. And when Pharaoh refused, Moses warned him of what was coming. A speaker for a people, and a warning to their masters, like the end of the poem.
SOPHIA
And Demosthenes stood up in Athens again and again to warn the Athenians about King Philip of Macedon. His speeches are still studied for their power. But power with words is a responsibility: words can lead people to freedom, or to death, or both.
Sophia’s summary
| Words and forms | Use | Example |
|---|---|---|
| repetition / parallelism | rhetorical power | I that have…, I that have… |
| preposition + whom | formal relative clauses | the children with whom I have played |
| whose + noun | belonging | the hands whose touch is familiar |
| ye / I am come / for that | old-fashioned forms | I am come = I have come |
| argue / point out / criticise | reporting different views | Others point out that… |
Practice
Listen to the song for Section A, then do the rest. Press “Check my answers” at the end. You can try again as many times as you like.
A · Listen: the song
Listen to the song and choose the best answer.
1. Who is the speaker of the poem?
2. Who does he speak to in the last stanza?
3. When was the poem written?
4. Where did Pearse read the Proclamation?
5. How did many Dubliners feel about the rebels at first?
6. What was Pearse’s father?
B · Grammar and vocabulary
Write the missing word or words.
7. The children with I have played.
8. The dear hands touch is familiar to me.
9. I am of the seed of the people. (= have come)
10. Others point that most of the dead were civilians.
11. of the thing that is coming! (warning)
12. I sorrowful with their sorrow. (be)
C · Right or wrong?
Is the sentence correct English?
13. “The friend with who I travelled.”
14. “The man whose house burned down.”
15. “Ye is welcome.” (old English, plural)
16. “Some historians criticise the decision.”
Talk and write
Discussion and writing
Read aloud. In groups, each person reads one stanza aloud, then the group decides: which lines are the most powerful? Why? Find three examples of repetition.
Discuss fairly. 1. Was the Easter Rising a heroic act or a reckless one? Give arguments on both sides. 2. Can a poem change history? 3. When is it right to rebel, and who decides?
Write (150–180 words). A speech for your people. Write a short speech for a group you belong to (a town, a school, a team), using parallel structures, a relative clause with whom or whose, and one warning with Beware.