Oh See the host of fleet foot men who sped with faces 
wan. 
From farmstedt and from fishers cot along the banks of 
Bann. 
They come with vengence in their eyes, too late, too late 
are they, 
For young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of T 
oome today. 

Verse 2: 
When the last stepped up the stret, 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, 
And young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of 
Toome today. 

Verse 3: 
Up the narrows streets he steps, smiling proud and young. 
About the hemp rope on his neck, the golden ringlets 
clung. 
There was never a tear in his blue eyes, both sad and 
bright are they, 
For young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of 
Toome today.