There is an isle, a bonny isle,
Stands proudly from the sea.
And dearer far than all this world
Is that dear isle to me.
It is not that alone it stands
Where all around is fresh and fair
But because it is my native land
And my home, my home is there.
Farewell, farewell! Though lands may meet
My gaze where'er I roam.
I shall not find a spot so fair
As that dear isle to me.
It is not that alone it stands
Where all around are fresh and fair
But because it is my native land
And my home, my home is there.
Now that most of the cats of rugby are all away, basking in the South African sun, perhaps some of the mice may roar. For some time now international matches involving Ireland have lost a certain amount of their previous style, mainly due in the view of this writer, to the fact that a song called Ireland's Call has been used instead of Amhrain na bhFiann.
There is now a widespread air of compromise and coming together and rugby has already played a big part in mutual understanding on this island and all credit to those who have played roles in that. The introduction of Ireland's Call is part of this air of compromise.
However, players drawn from both communities on this island have stood shoulder to shoulder in Lansdowne Road for the anthem of the Irish Republic and no less a man than Willie John McBride is on record as saying that he derived greater pleasure from playing before an all-Ireland crowd at Lansdowne Road than anywhere else. In fact, the mind's eye can still see McBride, draped in the green, white and orange flag as he was mobbed after scoring a try in what, if my memory serves me right, was his last match at Lansdowne Road. Having had the pleasure of being in the company of Irish players after international matches in O'Donoghue's on many occasions, I was always deeply impressed by the genuine friendship between the players from North and South of the border. People like Moss Keane and McBride singing their heads off, no bother, no border. The introduction of Ireland's Call was a genuine effort to ease whatever tensions or embarrassments might exist or be excited by the playing of Amhrain na bhFiann and, no doubt, it was appreciated. The fact of the matter, however, is that the spectators have not taken to the new anthem and, it seems, never will. Playing the song loudly over the public address system is no substitute for a full-throated rendition by the crowd. In a bid to foster the air of compromise and provide an alternative that may be taken up by fans, there is another anthem, however, which is well known to most genuine rugby followers and which has been sung all around the world with great passion by Irish players in the social events following matches. It has also been adopted by the Lions when on tour, with the Welsh choir-masters being particularly drawn to it.
The anthem is There Is an Isle and while it is particularly associated with Limerick it is widely known and sung elsewhere. It has a great passion and musicality and anyone who has heard it sung in Thomond Park could not help being greatly moved. So powerful is it that Cristoir O'Flynn has used There Is an Isle as the title of his memoir of a Limerick childhood. O'Flynn's book, to some extent, sets out to balance Frank McCourt's Angela's Ashes, a book of a contemporary, though very different, view of Limerick in the '30s and '40s. Needless to say, the latter has devoted quite an amount of space to rugby in his native city and the rugby chiefs saw fit to print it in the recent All-Ireland League final programme.
Among O'Flynn's comments are the following: "Our favourite sport was rugby - we found that middle `g' difficult, so we called the game `rubby'. Apparently the chaps at English public schools, except perhaps at the eponymous school where the game originated, found the word even more difficult, because they called the game `rugger'. In our street version, five, six or seven-aside, we used the rag ball or the Cleeve's milk tin. "Anyone who is au fait with the relationship between society and sport in Ireland will know that Limerick is the only place where sport is democratic and consequently is the only place where rugby was - and is still - played by the working classes as well as by the types who play it elsewhere." But, to get back to the subject of an anthem for Irish rugby, it would surely be a good move to adopt There Is an Isle. Not only is it a finely written piece, but it already has a sound basis, is non-political, non-sectarian, and non-partisan.
