Monday
Here’s a poem honoring 18th century activist William Orr that can help us mourn the deaths of Nicole Renee Good and Alex Pretti, both murdered by ICE. Orr was an Irish nationalist who, in 1797, was falsely accused of treason and hanged. The false testimony marshaled against him was on the order of Department of Homeland Security claiming that Good and Pretti were “domestic terrorists.”
The British authorities wished to make an example of Orr to act as a deterrent to potential recruits for the Society of United Irishmen. The group involved Protestants and Catholics together striving together for representative government in Ireland. Although everyone, from the judge on down, knew that Orr was innocent, the execution still went ahead. It’s as though they refused to acknowledge what they could see on the videos.
The more we learn about Pretti and Good, the more fitting William Drennan’s poem appears. For instance:
Write his merits on your mind,
Morals pure, and manners kind;
On his head, as on a hill,
Virtue placed her citadel.
And:
Why cut off in palmy youth?
Truth he spoke, and acted truth;
“Countrymen, Unite!” he cried,
And died, for what his Saviour died!
Drennan’s poem speaks to our own political turmoil:
Hapless nation, hapless land,
Heap of uncementing sand!
Crumbled by a foreign weight,
Or by worse, domestic hate!
God of mercy, God of peace,
Make the mad confusion cease!
O’er the mental chaos move,
Through it speak the light of love!
Like Minneapolis protesters, the murder of Orr strengthened the resolve of Irish activists rather than—as was intended—silencing them. “Watch with us, through dead of night–/But expect the morning light,” the poet writes before concluding,
Conquer Fortune – persevere –
Lo! it breaks – the morning clear!
The cheerful cock awakes the skies;
The day is come – Arise, arise!
Here’s the poem, which so electrified people that it led to the rallying cry, “Remember Orr” in the 1798 rebellion. Drennan is also famous for having coined the phrase “Emerald Isle” to describe Ireland.
Wake of William Orr
By William Drennan
Here our brother worthy lies,
Wake not him with women’s cries;
Mourn the way that mankind ought;
Sit, in silent trance of thought.
Write his merits on your mind,
Morals pure, and manners kind;
On his head, as on a hill,
Virtue placed her citadel.
Why cut off in palmy youth?
Truth he spoke, and acted truth;
“Countrymen, Unite!” he cried,
And died, for what his Saviour died!
God of Peace, and God of Love,
Let it not thy vengeance move!
Let it not thy lightnings draw,
A nation guillotined by law!
Hapless nation! rent and torn,
Early wert thou taught to mourn!
Warfare of six hundred years!
Epochs marked by blood and tears!
Hunted through thy native grounds,
And flung reward to human hounds,
Each one pull’d, and tore his share,
Emblem of thy deep despair!
Hapless nation, hapless land,
Heap of uncementing sand!
Crumbled by a foreign weight,
Or by worse, domestic hate!
God of mercy, God of peace,
Make the mad confusion cease!
O’er the mental chaos move,
Through it speak the light of love!
Monstrous and unhappy sight!
Brothers’ blood will not unite.
Holy oil, and holy water,
Mix – and fill the Earth with slaughter.
Who is she, with aspect wild? –
The widow’d mother, with her child;
Child, new stirring in the womb,
Husband, waiting for the tomb.
Angel of this holy place!
Calm her soul, and whisper, Peace!
Cord, nor axe, nor guillotine,
Make the sentence, not the sin.
Here we watch our brother’s sleep;
Watch with us, but do not weep;
Watch with us, through dead of night –
But expect the morning light.
Conquer Fortune – persevere –
Lo! it breaks – the morning clear!
The cheerful cock awakes the skies;
The day is come – Arise, arise!
