Lift, McCahir Og, your face
Still brooding over the old disgrace?
That Black Fitzwilliam stormed your place
Drove you to the Fern
Gray said victory was sure
And soon the Firebrand he'd secure
Until he met at Glenmalure
With Fiach MacHugh O'Byrne
Curse and swear, Lord Kildare
Fiach will do, what Fiach will dare
Now Fitzwilliam have a care
Fallen is your star low
Up with halberd, out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word
Follow me up to Carlow
See the swords of Glen Imayle
They're flashing over the English pale
See all the children of the Gael
Beneath O'Byrne's banners
Roosters of the fighting stock
Would you let a Saxon cock
Crow out upon, an Irish rock?
Fly up and teach him manners
Curse and swear, Lord Kildare
Fiach will do, what Fiach will dare
Now Fitzwilliam have a care
Fallen is your star low
Up with halberd, out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word
Follow me up to Carlow
From Tassagart to Clonmore
There flows a stream of Saxon gore
O great is Rory Og Omore
At sending the loons to Hades
White is sick, Grey is fled
And now for Black Fitzwilliams head
We'll send it over dripping red
To Queen Liza and her ladies
Curse and swear, Lord Kildare
Fiach will do, what Fiach will dare
Now Fitzwilliam have a care
Fallen is your star low
Up with halberd, out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word
Follow me up to Carlow
Writer(s): Dominic Behan, Trad
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