Verse 1: Oh See the host of fleet foot men who sped with faces wan.
From farmstedt and from fishers cot along the banks of Bann.
They come with vengence in their eyes, too late, too late are they,
For young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.
Verse 2: When the last stepped up the stret, his shining pike in hand.
Behind him marched in grim array a stalwart earnest band.
For Antrim town, for Antrim town, he led them to the fray,
And young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.
Verse 3: Up the narrows streets he steps, smiling proud and young.
About the hemp rope on his neck, the golden ringlets clung.
There was never a tear in his blue eyes, both sad and bright are they,
For young Roddy McCorly goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.