T'was 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, oh,
glory,
oh,
to the bold Fenian men
It is fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming
On strong,
mindy farms A noise with hope gleaming
I see them again
in all my sad dreaming
Glory,
oh,
glory,
oh,
to the bold Fenian men
When I was a young girl,
a-marching and drilling
I walked in the glenside
The sands are so mind-thrilling
But they loved dear old Ireland
And to die they were willing Glory, oh,
glory,
oh,
to the bold Fenian men
Some died by
the glenside Some died with a stranger
And
wise men do tell us
Their cause was a failure
But they start by old Ireland And they never fear danger
Glory,
oh,
glory, oh,
to the bold Fenian men
I passed on my way
God be praised that I met her
Be
life long or short
I ne'er will forget her
She may have brave men But we ne'er will have better
Glory, oh,
glory,
oh,
to the bold Fenian men