| Proudly the note of the trumpet is sounding
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| Loudly the war cries arise on the gale
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| Fleetly the steed by Lough Swilly is bounding
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| To join the thick squadrons on Saimer’s green vale
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| On every mountaineer strangers to flight or fear
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| Rush to the standard of dauntless Red Hugh
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| Bonnaught and Gallow glass throng from each mountain pass
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| «Onward for Erin O’Donnell Abu!»
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| Princely O’Neill to our aid is advancing
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| With many a chieftain and warrior clan
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| A thousand proud steeds in his vanguard are prancing
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| ‘Neath borderers brave from the Banks of the Bann
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| Many a heart shall quail under its coat of mail
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| Deeply the merciless foeman shall rue
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| When on his ear shall ring borne on the breeze’s wing
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| Tir Connell’s dread war cry «O'Donnell Abu!»
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| Wildly o’er Desmond the war wolf is howling
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| Fearless the eagle sweeps over the plain
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| The fox in the streets of the city is prowling
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| And all who would conquer them are banished or slain
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| Grasp every stalwart hand, hackbut and battle-brand
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| Pay them all back the deep debt so long due
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| Norris and Clifford well can of Tir Connell tell
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| «Onward to glory, O’Donnell Abu!»
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| Sacred the cause that Clan Connell’s defending
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| The alters we kneel at, the homes of our sires
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| Ruthless the ruin the foe is extending
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| Midnight is red with the plunderer’s fires
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| On with O’Donnell then, fight the goodfight again
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| Sons of Tir Connell are valiant and true
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| Make the false Saxon feel Erin’s avenging steel
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| «Strike for your country, O’Donnell Abu!» |