(William Rooney) 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. cho: 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. cho: 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. cho: 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. cho: 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. cho:
