«God save Ireland!» said the heroes;
«God save Ireland» said they all.
Whether on the scaffold high
Or the battlefield we die,
Oh, what matter when
For Erin dear we fall!
High upon the gallows tree swung the noble-hearted three.
By the vengeful tyrant stricken in their bloom;
But they met him face to face, with the courage of their race,
And they went with souls undaunted to their doom.
Climbed they up the rugged stair, rang their voices out in prayer,
Then with England's fatal cord around them cast,
Close beside the gallows tree kissed like brothers lovingly,
True to home and faith and freedom to the last.
Never till the latest day shall the memory pass away,
Of the gallant lives thus given for our land;
But on the cause must go, amidst joy and weal and woe,
Till we make our Isle a nation
Free and grand.