  Out of Ulster came O’Donnell, Black O’Donnell and his crew,— Kelly, More, Mac Carthy, Connell, Joined the cry—“O’Donnell Aboo!” Woe once more, red woe for Kerry, Blood-drops were as mountain dew When that cry so mad, yet merry, Rang and rang—“O’Donnell Aboo!” Gone those sanguine days of slaughter, Sword and matchlock, pike and brand; Peace now o’er the ways of water, Peace o’er all the length of land. Yet sometimes when night is sealing Cairn and ruined shrine from view, Down the Kerry glens goes pealing That wild cry—“O’Donnell Aboo!” |
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