(Refrão) 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 huming Glory o glory o, to the bold fenian man It's fifty long years Since I saw the moon beaming A strong mainly force There eyes with hope gleaming I see then again Through all my sad dreaming Glory o glory o, to the bold fenian man Some died by the hillside Some died with the stranger And wise man have told us They cause was a failure But they love they old Ireland And they never feel danger Glory o glory o, to the bold fenian man I passed on my way God be praysed that I met her Be life long or short I will never forget her We may have brave man But we'll never have better Glory o glory o, to the bold fenian man (Refrão)