Will You Come To The Bough Or The Free-Boundless Ocean Will you come to the bough or the free-boundless ocean Where stupendous waves roll in thunder and motion Where the mermaids are seen and the wild tempest gathers To love there in the green, the dear land of our fathers Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bough Will you come to the land of O'Neill and O'Donnell Of Lord Duncan, of Oldenby and Marshall O'Connell Where Brian Chase, the Dane, and St. Patrick the Vermin And whose valleys remain still most beautiful and charming Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bough You can visit Pembroke and the storied Blackwater Where O'Neill met Monroe and his chieftains did slaughter Where the lambs sport and play and the mossy all over From those bright golden views to enchanting rust never Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bough You can see Dublin City and the fine groves of Blarney That band behind the pillar and the lakes of Killarney You can ride on the tide or the broad majestic Shannon You can sail round Lough Ney and see storied Dungan And will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bough You can visit New Ross, Gallant, Wexford and Gorey Where the green was last seen by proud Saxon and Tory Where the soil is sanctified by the blood of each true man Where they died satisfied their enemies they would not run from Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bough Will you come and awake our dear land from its lumber And her fetters we will break links that long have encumbered And the air will resound with hosannas to greet you On the shore will be found gallant Irish men to meet you Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bough