Come to the Bower

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Will you come to the bower o’er the free boundless ocean
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Where the stupendous waves roll in thunder and motion
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Where the mermaids are seen and the fierce tempest gather
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To love Erin the green the dear land of our Fathers

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Will you come, will you, will you, will you come to the bower

Will you come to the land of O’Neill and O’Donnell
The patriot soldiers of Tirowen and Tirconnell
Where Brian drove the Danes and St. Patrick the vermin
And whose valleys remain still most beautiful and charming

You can visit Benburb and the storied Blackwater
Where Owen Roe met Munroe and his chieftains of slaughter
You may ride on the tide o’er the broad majestic Shannon
You may sail round Lough Neagh and see storied Dungannon

You can visit New Ross, gallant Wexford and Gorey
Where the green was last seen by proud Saxon and Tory
Where the sail is sanctified by the blood of each true man
Where they died satisfied, their enemies they would not run from

Will you come and awake our lost land from its slumbers
And her fetters we will break, links that long are encumbered
And the air will resound with Hosannas to greet you
On the shores will be found gallant Irishmen to meet you