The Irish Rovers — Young Roddy McCorley

Oh See the fleet foot host of men Who sped with faces wan From farmstedt and from fishers cot Along the banks of Bann 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 steps He Smiling proud and young About the hemp rope 'round his neck The golden ringlets clung There's never a tear in his blue eyes Both glad and bright are they For young Roddy McCorley goes to die On the bridge of Toome today When the last stepped up the 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 For young Roddy McCorley goes to die On the bridge of Toome today There's never a one of all your dead More bravely fell in fray Than he who marches to his fate On the bridge Toome today True to the last! True to the last He treads the upward way For young Roddy McCorley goes to die On the bridge of Toome today


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