The Bold Fenian Men

't Was down by the glenside, I met an old woman A-picking young nettles, she scare saw me coming I listened a while to the song she was humming Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men! 't Is fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming On strong manly forms and their eyes with hope gleaming I see them again, sure in all my day 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 down 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 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!