Roddy McCawley The Freedom Fighters (IRL)

Oh, see the fleetfoot hosts of men who sped with faces drawn
From farmstead and from fishers' cot along the banks of Ban;
They come with vengeance in their eyes. Too late! Too late are they
For Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today

Oh Ireland, mother Ireland, you love them still the best
The fearless brave who fighting fall upon your helpless breast
But never a one of all your dеad more bravely fell in fray
Than hе who marches to his fate today on the bridge of Toome today

Up the narrow street he stepped, smiling proud and young
About the hemp-rope on his neck the golden ringlets clung
There was never a tear in the blue, blue eyes
But glad and bright are they
As Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today

Ah, when he last stepped up that street, his pike was right in hand
Behind him marched in grim array a stalwart, earnest band
For Antrim town, for Antrim town, he led them to the fray
And Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today

The grey coat and the sash of green were brave and stainless then
A banner flashed beneath the sun, over marching men
The coat hath many a rent this noon; the sash is torn away
And Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today