Follow Me Up To Carlow
Lift Mac Cahir ? your face, brooding o'er the
That black FitzWilliam stormed your place, and drove you to the fern
Grey said victory was sure, soon
the firebrand he'd secure
Until he met at Glenmalure: Feach Mac Hugh O'Byrne!
Curse and swear, Lord Kildare
do what Feach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care!
Fallen is your star, low!
Up with halbert, out with sword!
we go, for, by the Lord,
Feach Mac Hugh has given the word
Follow me up to Carlow
See the swords of Glen Imayle, flashing o'er
the English Pale
See all the children of the Gael beneath O'Byrne's banners
Rooster of the fighting stock, would you
let a Saxon cock
Crow out upon an Irish rock? Fly up and teach him manners
From Tassagart to Clonmore, there flows a stream
of Saxon gore
Och, great is Rory ? O'More at sending loons to Hades
White is sick and Lane is fled, now for black FitzWilliam's
We'll send it over, dripping red, to queen Liza and her ladies