From Dublin´s smoke to Connacht´s hills
From Cork to Inishowen
We´re gathered, hope our bosom thrills;
Our trust - Ourselves Alone!
Our purpose one with those who´ve gone
The true man´s upward way,
For dear old Ireland, loved old Ireland,
Ireland, boys, hurrah!

We´re scant of cultured thought or skill
Or golden store to spare;
But honest hearts and earnest will
To do what men may dare;
To keep the blaze of other days Alive by hill and bay,
For dear old Ireland, brave old Ireland,
Ireland, boys, hurrah!

To cherish still the olden strains
That cheered the long ago
Ere Munster´s vales or Leinster´s plains
Had known a foreign foe,
Be ours and rhyme their magic chime
To many a rousing lay
For dear old Ireland, loved old Ireland,
Ireland, boys, hurrah!

We little reck of creed or race;
We´ve welcome warm for all
Prepared to take the true men´s place
When Erin sounds the call.
We sing the tale of Gall and Gael
That cursed our father´s day
For dear old Ireland, brave old Ireland,
Ireland, boys, hurrah!

Then who so treasures in his heart
The thoughts that thrill our veins,
Come lend a hand to rend apart
Our nation´s festering chains.
Our strength is slight, but every mite
Adds something to th´array
Of patient Ireland, watchful Ireland,
Ireland, boys, hurrah!