'Twas down by the glenside, I met an old woman
A-plucking young nettles, she ne’er saw me coming
I listened a while to the song she was humming
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men “
'Tis fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming
On strong manly forms, gazed on eyes with hope gleaming
Should I see them again though all my day dreaming
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men.“
Some died by the glenside, some died midth a stranger
And wise men have told us their cause was a failure
But they loved old Ireland and never feared danger
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men“
I passed on my way, God be praised that I met her
Be life long or short, sure I'll never forget her
We may have brave men, but we'll never have better
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men “