Ballads of Irish chivalry By Robert Dwyer Joyce: Edited, with Annotations, by his brother P. W. Joyce |
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WILL OF GLENORE. |
 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
WILL OF GLENORE.
In country or town there was never a man
Who could handle a broadsword or fight in the van,
Who could glory in danger whate'er was in store,
Like the valiant young rapparee, Will of Glenore.
Who could handle a broadsword or fight in the van,
Who could glory in danger whate'er was in store,
Like the valiant young rapparee, Will of Glenore.
From his boot to his basnet was burnished so sheen,
And his arm it was strong and his sword it was keen;
And his brain was the brightest that ever of yore
Laid a trap for the Sassenach—Will of Glenore.
And his arm it was strong and his sword it was keen;
And his brain was the brightest that ever of yore
Laid a trap for the Sassenach—Will of Glenore.
145
From Kilbenny at cock-crow the Riddera Fionn
Spurred on with his vassals by forest and down,
Young Will to catch sleeping by dark Galtymore:
But the sleep of a fox slept young Will of Glenore.
Spurred on with his vassals by forest and down,
Young Will to catch sleeping by dark Galtymore:
But the sleep of a fox slept young Will of Glenore.
For slyly and quietly he'd ambushed his men
Where the Funshion in foam tumbles down through the glen:
“Now he thinks that he'll catch us just taking our snore;
But 'tis he'll be caught napping!”—cried Will of Glenore.
Where the Funshion in foam tumbles down through the glen:
“Now he thinks that he'll catch us just taking our snore;
But 'tis he'll be caught napping!”—cried Will of Glenore.
The Riddera rode with his wild vassals in,
Till he'd reached the deep bosom of Funshion's lone glynn.
“Now the Riddera's trapped and we'll pay an old score,
So blow up the trumpet!”—cried Will of Glenore.
Till he'd reached the deep bosom of Funshion's lone glynn.
“Now the Riddera's trapped and we'll pay an old score,
So blow up the trumpet!”—cried Will of Glenore.
Up they sprang at the signal and forward they dashed.
And down on the foe like a whirlwind they crashed:
And for many long years did the Riddera deplore
The drubbing he got from young Will of Glenore!
And down on the foe like a whirlwind they crashed:
And for many long years did the Riddera deplore
The drubbing he got from young Will of Glenore!
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |