The grey coat and its sash of green,
Were brave and stainless then.
A banner flashed beneath the sun,
Beside the marching men.
For Antrim town, for Antrim town
He led them to the fray.
But Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the bridge of Toome today.

Stepped he up that narrow street
With a spirit proud and young
And above the hempen rope
The golden ringlets hung.
There was never a tear in the blue, blue eyes.
Both glad and bright are they,
As Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the Bridge of Toome today.

When he last stepped up that street
His shining steel in hand,
Behind him marched in grim array
A stalwart earnest band.
For Antrim town, from Antrim town
He lad them to the fray.
For Roddy McCorley goes to die
At the Bridge of Toome today.

Oh! see the hosts of fleet-foot men,
Who speed with faces wan,
From farmstead and from fisher's cot,
Beside the banks of Bann.
They come with vengeance in their eyes.
Too late, too late, are they,
For Roddy McCorley goes to die
At the Bridge of Toome today.

His pike he flung unto the sun,
Then found a foeman's heart.
Through furious fight and fiery odds
He bore a true-man's part.
And many a red-coat bit the dust
Before his keen pike play,
But Roddy McCorley goes to die
On the Bridge of Toome today!

Because he loved his Mother-land,
Because he loved the Green
He goes to meet a martyr's fate
With a proud and joyous mien.
True to the last, true to the last,
He trod his upward way,
Young Roddy McCorley goes to die,
On the Bridge of Toome today!