The Wolfe Tones - Glenswilly

[C]Attention pay, my [F]countrymen, and hear my native [C]news [C]Although my song is[F] sorrow[C]ful, I hope you'll me ex[Am]cuse I[C] left my peaceful[F] resi[C]dence a foreign land to [Am]see And I[C] bid farewell to[F] Donegal, likewise to Glen[C]swilly Some stalwart men around me stood, each comrade loyal and true And as I grasped each well-known hand to bid a last adieu I said, My fellow countrymen, I hope you'll soon be free To raise the flag more proudly oer the hills of Glenswilly It is these cruel English laws, they curse our native isle Must Irishmen always live like slaves or else die in exile? There's not a man to strike a blow or to keep down tyranny Since Lord Leitrim like a dog was shot not far from Glenswilly No more beside the sycamore I'll hear the blackbird sing No more to meet the blithe cuckoo to welcome back the spring No more I'll plow your fertile fields, a chuisle geal mo chroIdhe On foreign soil I'm doomed to toil far, far from Glenswilly God bless you, dark old Donegal, my own dear native land In dreams I've often seen your hills and your towering mountains grand But the last three thousand miles of life separates these hills from me I'm a poor forlorn exile cast far, far from Glenswilly I'm a poor forlorn exile cast far, far from Glenswilly