Let newer nations fill the stage,
And vaunt them to the sky:
The Gael has still a heritage
That gold can never buy;
The mountains may be bleak and bare,
Forlorn the country side,
But great Cuchulainn battled there
And "Red Branch" heroes died.
And as of old, our headlands bold
Still front the raging sea,
So may our band united stand,
As fearless and as free.
I hear the lays of other days
In martial numbers flow,
King Death's the only sword that stays
The march of Owen Roe.
At Fontenoy the breezes bore
The war cry of the Gael,
And Saxon standards fled before
The sons of Innisfail.
And as of old, our headlands bold
Still front the raging sea,
So may our band united stand,
As fearless and as free.
Beneath the rath the heroes sleep.
Their steeds beside them stand.
Each falchion from its sheath shall leap
To guard old Ireland:
The legend we may yet fulfil
And play the heroes part,
For Sarsfield's spirit slumbers still
In many an Irish heart.
And as of old, our headlands bold
Still front the raging sea,
So may our band united stand
As fearless and as free.
