After Aughrim's great disaster,
When our foe in sooth was master,
Twas you that first rushed in and swam the Shannon's boiling flood.
And through Slieve Bloom's dark pa**es
You led your gallowgla**es,
Although the hungry Saxon wolves were howling for our blood.
And as we crossed Tipp'rary,
We raised the clan O'Leary
And drove a creagh before them, as their horsemen onward came.
With our spears and swords we gored them,
As through flood and light we bored them,
Ah, but Sean O'Duibhir an Gleanna, we were worsted in the game
Long, long we kept the hill-side,
Our couch hard by the rill-side,
The sturdy knotted oaken boughs our curtain overhead.
The summer's blaze we laughed at,
The winter snows we scoffed at;
And trusted to our long steel swords to win us daily bread.
Till the Dutchman's troops came round us,
In fire and steel they bound us.
They blazed the woods and mountains, till the very clouds were flame.
Yet our sharpen'd swords cut through them,
To their very heart we hewed them,
Ah, but Sean O'Duibhir an Gleanna, we were worsted in the game.
Here's a health to your and my King
The sovereign of our liking
And to Sarsfield, underneath whose flag we'll cast once more a chance.
For the morning's dawn will wing us
Across the seas and bring us
To take our stand and wield a brand among the sons of France.
And though we part in sorrow
Still Sean O'Duibhir an Gleanna,
Our prayer is 'God save Ireland and pour blessings on her name.'
May her sons be true when needed,
May they never fail as we did,
For Sean O'Duibhir an Gleanna, we were worsted in the game.