Oh See the host of fleet foot men who sped with faces
wan.
From farmstedt and from fishers cot along the banks of
Bann.
They come with vengence in their eyes, too late, too late
are they,
For young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of T
oome today.
Verse 2:
When the last stepped up the stret, 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 young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of
Toome today.
Verse 3:
Up the narrows streets he steps, 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 sad and
bright are they,
For young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of
Toome today.