Ho! See the fleet-foot hosts of men Who speed with faces wan, From farmstead and from fisher´s cot Upon the banks of the Bann! They come with vengeance in their eyes Too late, too late are they For Rody M´Corley 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 hapless breast: But never a one of all your dead More bravely fell in fray, Than he who marches to his fate On the Bridge of Toome today.
Up the narrow street he stepped, Smiling and proud and young; About the hemp rope on his neck The golden ringlets clung, There´s never a tear in the blue, blue eyes, Both glad and clear are they As Rody M´Corley goes to die On the Bridge of Toome today.
Ah! When he last stepped up that street, His shining pike 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 Rody M´Corley goes to die On the Bridge of Toome today.
The grey coat and its sash of green Were brave and stainless then; A banner flashed beneath the sun Over the marching men The coat hath many a rent this noon, The sash is torn away, And Rody M´Corley goes to die On the Bridge of Toome today.
Oh how his pike flashed in the sun! Then found a foeman´s heart! Through furious fight, and heavy odds, He bore a true man´s part; And many a redcoat bit the dust Before his keen pike-play, But Rody M´Corley goes to die On the Bridge of Toome today.
Because he loved the Motherland, Because he loved the Green, He goes to meet the martyr´s fate With proud and joyous mien, True to the last, true to the last, He treads the upward way Young Rody M´Corley goes to die On the Bridge of Toome today