d C F a
4Twas down by the glenside I met an old woman
d C F a
Aplucking young nettles, she ne4er saw me coming.
d F C
I listened a while to the song she was humming,
d a B C d
Glory-oh, glory-oh to the bold Fenian men.
4Tis fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming
On strong manly forms, their eyes with hope gleaming.
I see them again through all my sad dreaming,
Glory-oh, glory-oh to the bold Fenian men.
When I was a young boy their marching and drilling
Awoke in the glenside, sound awesome and thrilling,
They stood by old Ireland and to die they were willing,
Glory-oh, glory-oh to the bold Fenian men.
Some died by the glenside, some died with the stranger,
And wise men have told us their cause was a failure.
But they stood by old Ireland and never feared danger,
Glory-oh, glory-oh to the bold Fenian men.
I passed on my way, God be praised that I met her,
Be life long or short I will never forget her.
We may have brave men, but we4ll never have better,
Glory-oh, glory-oh to the bold Fenian men.
