He fought at Casino—she's proud of his glory
Yet sadly she sings "Siubhail a Rúin" all the day
Oh, come home my darling, come home to Finae
At long years have passed till she's nigh broken-hearted
Her reel and her rock and her flax she has parted
She sails with the wild geese to Flanders away
And leaves her poor parents alone in Finae
Lord Clare on the field of Ramillies is charging
Behind him the Cravats, their sections display
Beside him rides Fergus and he shouts for Finae
On the slopes of La Judoigne the Frenchmen are flying
Lord Clare and his squadrons the foe still defying
Outnumbered and wounded retreat in array
And bleeding rides Fergus and he thinks of Finae
In the cloisters of Ypres a banner is swaying
And by it a pale weeping maiden is praying
That flag's the sole trophy of Ramillies' fray
This nun is poor Eily, the flower of Finae