Roddy McCorley

Oh, see the fleet foot hosts of men
Who come with faces wan
From farm stead and from Fisher's cot
Along the banks of Ban
They come with vengeance in their eyes,
Too late,  Too late are they,
For young Roddy McCorley goes to die 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 his blue eyes,
Both glad and bright were they,
As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome
Today!

 

When he last stepped up that street
His shining pike in hand
Around him marched in grim array
A stalwart earnest band
For Antrim Town!  For Antrim Town!
He led them to the fray,
As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the Bridge of Toome
Today!

 

There is never a one of all who die
Who bravely fell in fray
Than he who marches to his death
On the Bridge of Toome today
True to the last, true to the last,
He treads the upward way
As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the Bridge of Toome
Today!

 As young Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the Bridge of Toome today!