Verse by 'B. J. M. ', Hut 26, Rath Camp:

'Oft as I've lain in my hut at night
And through the roof the rain came pouring
Then I've tucked the clothes around my head
And joined the chorus snoring'

Verse from Internee No 832, James Donegan, No 9 Tent B Company:

'O would the God above
Send down a dove with wings as sharp as razors
To cut the throat of those English dogs,
That shot our Irish leaders'

Also a joke from Thomas McGivinchy: 'Happy is the man who sits on a wasp's nest, for he shall rise again.'

Verse by Mícheál Ó Baoghaláin (Meath):

'Wherever the forces of crown assemble
Whether on land, or sea, or the air
Strike them down O Lord
Strike them down
And may their bones be ground into manure
And spread over the land to grow crops for the poor.'

Verse by Michael Keating, Dublin:

'When this you see
Remember me sawing wood
And all the time
Every fate defying
To escape if I could'

Verses transcribed Padraic Ó Briain, Rath Camp:

They lost! But O! They conquer
These men who their land would save
A firing party at break of day.
And a tasty quick-lime grave.

But think not of them with scorn
Nor mourn for the cause they died
This death saved Ireland's honour
What mattered all else beside.

We've been told twas a failure by those that ne'er understood
How the new born soul of Erin was baptised in martyrs' blood
And to all who crave for freedom, as the world its
meaning know, I give them this little story
The story of Glorious Easter Week.

Verse by Denis (Dinny) Pender, Internee 1076, Hut 26:

'You have asked me to write in your Auts
But I don't know where to begin
For there's nothing original in me
Except for original sin'

Verse from internee No 1065, Joseph Lee, Hut 26:

'I wished I was a little Duck
All swimming on a lake
And I beside you swimming too
A faithful little drake.'

Verse by Internee 1071, Hut 26, Rath, JohnJ. Horan:

'When the evening sun is setting
And your mind from care is free
When of Rath Camp you are thinking
Won't you sometimes think of me.'

Verse by T. P. Duke transcribed by Tomás Ó Dúigh (Clare), Rath Camp:

'The Strike
Act 1
A rush. A cheer. A bursting of doors
with bedboard or with spike
Locks flying in Air, Ah! it's the
Boys in camp have gone on strike
The Guard called out their wind is up
in vain they bawl and shout
but the Boys don't seem to mind them
in groups they walk about.'

"The mills of God grind slowly
But they grind exceeding small
For England you can plainly see
The writing on the wall"

Malachy Lynam, Hut 31, Rath Internment Camp