The Men Of The West

When you honor in song and in story

The names of the patriot men,

Whose valor has covered with glory

Full many a mountain and glen,

Forget not the boys of the heather

Who rallied their bravest and best

When Ireland was broken in Wexford

And looked for revenge to the West.

I give you the gallant old West, boys,

Where rallied our bravest and best

When Ireland lay broken and bleeding;

Hurrah for the men of the West!

The hilltops with glory were glowing

'Twas the eve of a bright harvest day,

When the ship we'd been wearily waiting

Sailed into Killala's broad bay.

And over the hills went the slogan

To awaken in every breast

The fire that has never been quenched, boys,

Among the true hearts of the West.

Killala was ours ere the midnight,

And high over Ballina town

Our banners in triumph were waving

Before the next sun had gone down.

We gathered to speed the good work, boys

The true men from near and afar;

And history can tell how we routed

The redcoats through old Castlebar.

And pledge me the stout sons of France, boys,

Bold Humbert and all his brave men,

Whose tramp, like the trumpet of battle,

Brought hope to the drooping again.

Since Ireland has caught to her bosom

On many a mountain and hill

The gallants who fell, so they're here, boys,

To cheer us to victory still.

Though all the bright dreamings we cherished

Went down in disaster and woe,

The spirit of old is still with us

That never would bend to the foe.

And Connaught is ready whenever

The loud rolling tuck of the drum

Rings out to awaken the echoes

And tell us the morning has come.