1. Oh, see the fleet-foot hosts of men Who speed with faces wan From farmstead and from thresher's cot Along the banks of the 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. 2. 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.

3. 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. 4. 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 Tomb 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.

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