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作曲 : Kearney |
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It was down by the glenside, I met an old woman |
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A-picking young nettles, and she ne’er saw me coming |
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I listened a while to the song she was humming |
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Glory-O, Glory-O, to the bold Fenian men |
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It's fifty long years since I saw the moon beamin' |
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On strong manly forms, and eyes with hope gleaming |
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I see them again, in all my sad dreaming |
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Glory-O, Glory-O, to the bold Fenian men. |
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When I was a young girl, their marchin' and drilling' |
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Awoke in the glenside sounds awesome and thrillin' |
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They loved dear old Ireland, and to die they were willing |
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Glory-O, Glory-O, to the bold Fenian men. |
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Some died by the glenside, some died near a stranger |
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And wise men have told us their cause was a failure |
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They loved dear old Ireland, they never feared danger |
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Glory-O, Glory-O, to the bold Fenian men |
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I went on my way, God be praised that I met her |
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Be life long or short, sure I'll never forget her |
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We may have good men, but we'll never have better |
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Glory-O, Glory-O, to the bold Fenian men |
