Hurrah for the vengeance of old Mullaghmast,
On the blood-bolter'd ground where your gauntlet was cast;
Hurrah for the vengeance of Tara's proud hill,
Where the bones of our monarchs are blood-sprinkled still.
Hurrah for Clontarf, though the Saxon may smile,
The last, greatest triumph of Erin's green isle!
Let the scoffer scoff on, while I hereby proclaim,
That flight may be courage, and fear but a name;
That boasting is good, when 'tis good for the cause,
But, in sight of cold steel, we should honour the laws;