Classic Poem

Down by the glenside I met an old woman
A plucking young nettles nor saw I was coming,
I listened awhile to the song she was humming: —
" Glory O! Glory O! to the Bold Fenian Men. "

" Tis fifty long years since I saw the moon beamin,'
On strong manly forms, an' on eyes with hope gleamin,'
I see them again sure thro' all my day-dreamin,'
Glory O! Glory O! to the Bold Fenian Men. "

" When I was a girl their marchin' an' drillin'
Awoke in the glenside sounds awesome an' thrillin,'
They loved poor old Ireland an' to die they were willin'
Glory O! Glory O! to the Bold Fenian Men. "

" Some died by the glenside, some died mid the stranger,
And wise men have told us their cause was a failure,
But they stood by old Ireland an' never feared danger,
Glory O! Glory O! to the Bold Fenian Men. "

I passed on my way, God be praised that I met her,
Be life long or short I shall never forget her,
We may have great men but — we'll never have better,
Glory O! Glory O! to the Bold Fenian Men.