The Yeos were in Dunshaughlin, and the Hessians in Dunreagh,
And spread throÂ´ fair Moynalty were the Fencibles of Reagh,
While RodenÂ´s godless troopers ranged from Skreen to Mullachoo,
When hammered were the pikeheads first by PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
Young PÃ¡id, he was as brave a boy as ever hammer swung,
And the finest hurler that youÂ´d ever find the lads of Meath among;
And when the wrestling match was oÂ´er no man could boast he threw
The dark-haired smith of CurroghÃ¡, young PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
So PÃ¡draig lived a happy life and gaily sang each day
Beside his ringing anvil some sweet old Irish lay,
Or roamed light-heartedly at eve throÂ´ the woods of lone Kilbrue,
With her whoÂ´d given her pure heartÂ´s love to PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
But Ninety-EightÂ´s dark season came and Irish hearts were sore;
The pitch-cap and triangle the patient folk outwore;
The blacksmith thought of Ireland and found heÂ´d work to do:
"IÂ´ll forge some steel for freedom," said PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
ThoÂ´ the Yeos were in Dunshaughlin and the Hessians in Dunreagh,
ThoÂ´ spread throÂ´ fair Moynalty were the Fencibles of Reagh;
ThoÂ´ RodenÂ´s godless troopers ranged from Skreen to Mullachoo,
The pike-heads keen were hammered out by PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
And so in CurroghÃ¡ each night was heard the anvilÂ´s ring,
While scouting on the roadways were Hugh and Phelim King,
With GillicÂ´s Mat, and DuffyÂ´s Pat, and Mickey Gilsenan, too,
While in the forge for Ireland worked young PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
But a traitor crept amongst them, and the secret soon was sold
To the captain of the Yeomen for the ready Saxon gold;
And a troop burst out one evening from the woods of dark Kilbrue,
And soon a rebel prisoner bound was PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
Now PÃ¡draig Ã"g pray fervently, your earthly course has run;
The captain he has sworn youÂ´ll not see the morrowÂ´s sun.
The muskets they are ready, and each yeomanÂ´s aim is true;
Death stands beside thy shoulder, young PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
"Down on your knees, you rebel dog," the yeoman captain roared,
As high above his helmetÂ´s crest he waved his gleaming sword.
"Down on your knees to meet you doom, such is the rebelÂ´s due;"
But straight as pike shaft Â´fore him stood bold PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
And there upon the roadway where in childhood he had played,
Before the cruel yeoman he stood quite undismayed
"I kneel but to my God above, I neÂ´er shall bow to you;
You can shoot me as IÂ´m standing," said PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
The captain gazed in wonder, then lowered his keen edged blade,
"A rebel bold as this," he said "tis fitting to degrade.
Here men!" he cried, "unbind him, my charger needs a shoe;
The King shall have a workman in this PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue."
Now to the forge young PÃ¡id has gone, the yeomen guard the door,
And soon the ponderous bellows is heard to snort and roar;
The captain stands with reins in hand while PÃ¡draig fits the shoe,
And when Â´tis on full short the shrift heÂ´ll give OÂ´Donoghue.
The last strong nail is firmly clenched, the captainÂ´s horse is shod!
Now rebel bold thine hour hath come, prepare to meet thy God!
But why holds he the horseÂ´s hoof thereÂ´s no more work to do?
Why clenches he his hammer so, young PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue?
A leap! a roar! a smothered groan! the captain drops the rein,
And sinks to earth with hammer-head sunk deeply in his brain;
And lightly in the saddle fast racing towards Kilbrue
Upon the captainÂ´s charger sits PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
A volley from the pistols, a rush of horsesÂ´ feet
HeÂ´s gone! and none can capture the captainÂ´s charger fleet;
And on the night wind backwards comes a mocking loud "Halloo!"
That tells the yeomen they have lost young PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
Young PÃ¡id fought at Tara, you know the nationÂ´s tale;
Though borne down in that struggle, not hopeless is the Gael,
For still in MeathÂ´s fair county, there are brave lads - not a few
Who would follow in the footsteps of bold PÃ¡id OÂ´Donoghue.
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