Ethna Carberry
Oh, see the fleet-foot hosts of men who speed with faces wan
From farmstead and from thresher'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 streets he stepped smiling proud and young
About the hemp rope around his neck his golden ringlets clung
Oh, there is never a tear in his blue eyes
Both sad and bright are 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
Behind 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 your dead, more bravely fell in fray
Than he who marches to his fate
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.
Performer(s) Francesca Etc .Etc.