It was down by the Glenside I met an old woman A-plucking young nettles she ne'er saw me coming I listened a while to the song she was humming Glory O, glory O, to the bold Fenian men 'Tis fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming On strong manly forms, gazed on eyes with hope gleaming Sure I see them again through all my day-dreaming Glory O, glory O, to the bold Fenian men Some died on the hillside, some died midst the stranger And wise men have told us that their cause was a failure But they loved dear old Ireland and they never feared danger Glory O, glory O, to the bold Fenian men I pa**ed on my way, God be praised that I met her For be life long or short, I will never forget her For we may have brave men, but we'll never have better Glory O, glory O, to the bold Fenian men