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Signature of Séamus Ó Riain, tintown No 3 Camp, with the note:

'An séadh lá de'n stailc' (the sixth day of [hunger] strike).

Note by Edward Dunne (Clonaslee, Laois), Tintown No 2 Camp:

'Give real champagne
to your best friends
Give real pain to your sham friends
Just a few from a bashful poet.'

Verse transcribed by Sean Whelan (Enniscorthy, Wexford), Tintown Camp, 'on the second day of the fight for freedom':

'Oh God! to have fought, to have won, to have died
Defending the old flag
By sweet Slaney side.

Quote from Terence MacSwiney transcribed by Joe Harrington, Internee 3544, Tintown Camp No 3:

'No physical victory can compensate for spiritual surrender'

Verse transcribed by Paddy Quinn (Kildare), Hut 11, Rath Camp:

'We're getting darn little to eat or drink
We're getting darn to ware
And we're all living wild now here in the clink
On the Curragh of Kildare
The margarine question is being discusted
And our own quarter of bread is now dry
If it is not soon settled our axles
will rust and then sure I'm damned, we must die.

Quote from a parody of Thomas Campbell's 'The Exile of Erin' transcribed by Liam Ó [Dulchaointigh], Tintown No 3 Camp, who ascribes this version to Rudyard Kipling:

'There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin
the dew on his thin robes was heavy and chill
Ere the dust from his brogues he fully had shaken
He was Member of Parliament introducing a Bill.

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 transcribed by Vincent Burke, Hut 12, No 3 Tintown camp:

'What is life?
Ah who can say!
Clouds upon a summer day
Gone tomorrow, here today
Gift of heaven come to stay
Who can say?

What is death
Ah no-one knows!
Words that cease and eyes that close
Something sweeter that repose
Just away that each one goes
Where God knows!

What is Love?
Ah who can tell!
Sometimes heaven, sometimes hell
Neither wholly ill or well
All would buy, but who can sell?
Who can tell?

Note entitled 'Fifth Day of Hunger Strike' by Thomas [Barclay], Druncomndra, Dublin:

'One thing that gives a tyrant his power is that he has the means to justify his tyranny'.

Verse transcribed by Séamus Ó Faoláin (Tullamore), Hut 12, Camp 3, Tintown:

'But the youngest, he speaks out bold and clearly
I have no ties of children or of wife
Let me die, but spare mu brother,
Who is more dearly loved by me than life.'