John O'Dwyer of the Glen
Canon Sheehan of Doneraile

After Aughrim's great disaster,

When our foe in sooth was master,

In was you that first plunged in and swam

The Shannon's boiling flood.

And through Slieve Bloom's dark passes

You led your gallowglasses,

Although the hungry Saxon wolves

Were howling for our blood.

And as we crossed Tipperary,

We rieved the clan O'Leary

And drove a creaght before us,

As our horsemen southward came.

With our spears and swords we gored them,

As through flood and flight we bore them,

Still Seaghan O'Duibhir an Gleanna

We're worsted in the game

2

Long, long we kept the hill-side,

Our couch hard by the rill-side,

The sturdy knotted oaken boughs

Our curtain overhead.

The summer blaze we laughed at,

The winter snow we scoffed at;

And trusted to our long steel swords

To win us daily bread.

Till the Dutchman's troops came round us,

In fire and steel they bound us.

They blazed the woods and mountains

Till the very clouds were flame.

Yet our sharpened swords cut through them,

To their very heart we hewed them,

But Seaghan O'Duibhir an Gleanna

We're worsted in the game.

3

Here's a health to your and my King

The sovereign of our liking

And to Sarsfield, underneath whose flag

We'll cast once more a chance.

For the morning's dawn will wing us

Across the seas and bring us

To take our stand and wield a brand

Among the sons of France.

And though we part in sorrow

Still Seaghan O'Duibhir, a chara,

Our prayer is 'God save Ireland

And pour blessings on her name.'

May her sons be true when needed,

May they never fail as we did,

For Seaghan O'Duibhir an Gleanna

We're worsted in the game.