Down by the Glenside - The Davitts

'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, on eyes with hope gleaming

I see them again, sure, in all my sad dreaming

Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men.

When I was a young girl, their marching and drilling

Awoke in the glenside sounds awesome and thrilling

They loved dear old Ireland, to die they were willing

Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men.

Some died by the glenside, some died near a stranger

And wise men have told us their cause was a failure

But they fought for 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