Lift Mac Cahir Ã'g your face

Broodin' o'er the old disgrace

That Black Fitzwilliam stormed your place

And drove you to the fern

Gray said victory was sure

Soon the firebrand he'd secure

Until he met at Glenmalure

With Fiach Mchugh 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 go for, by the Lord

Fiach McHugh has given the word

"Follow me up to Carlow!"



See the swords at Glen Imaal,

flashin' o'er the English Pale

See all the children of the Gael,

beneath O'Byrne's banner

Rooster of a 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 go for, by the Lord

Fiach McHugh has given the word

"Follow me up to Carlow!"



From Tassagart to Clonmore,

flows a stream of Saxon gore

How great is Rory Óg O'More

at sending loons to Hades

White is sick, Gray is fled,

now for black Fitzwilliam's 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 go for, by the Lord

Fiach McHugh has given the word

"Follow me up to Carlow!"