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!
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 '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!
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 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!
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 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!
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 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!