Omnia - The bold Fenian men

'Twas down by the glenside, I met an old woman
A'picking young nettles, she ne'er saw me coming
I listened awhile 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 and their eyes with hope gleaming
I see them again, in all my sad dreaming
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian* men Some died by the glenside, some died of a stranger
And wise men have told us that their cause was a failure
They loved their old Ireland and they 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