The Great Hunger The Wolfe Tones

It was in the year eighteen forty and five
A great hunger came o'er the land
And it was the neglect of the rulers to be
That no crops could the soil command
Yet the farmer he tilled
He toiled and he sowed
And he planted with his strong hands
A great hunger came o'er the land

The moon it shone bright
O'er the late autumn skies
'Twas the finest, the harvest moon
Yet it was not the sight
Of joy to be seen
For then again, too soon
Crop failure had turned
The sweetness all sour
In the hearts of all Ireland
A great hunger came o'er the land

Now the men, they grow weak
And the women are pale
And the children are dying now
The cold winter months
Will soon pass us by
Without hope in the early spring
And the people will cry
With a hungry plea
Without hope of a helping hand
A great hunger came o'er the land