Let Erin remember the days of old,
Ere her faithless sons betrayed her.
When Malachi wore the collar of gold,
Which he won from her proud invader,
When her kings with standards of green unfurled
Led the Red-Branch Knights to danger,
Ere the emerald gem of the western world,
was set in the crown of a stranger.
On Lough Neagh’s bank as the fisherman strays
When the clear cold eve’s declining,
He sees the round towers of other days,
In the wave beneath him shining.
Thus shall memory often in dreams sublime,
Catch a glimpse of the days that are over,
Thus, sighing, look through the waves of time
For the long-faded glories they cover