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O'DONNELL'S MARCH
(THE BROWN LITTLE MALLET.) |
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2.
The rain it ran in fountains, Then there fell such frost, That Slieve Phelim's mountains
Swift as fire he crossed. Past every Saxon Warder He's broke the Southern Border, And struck in battle order Mountjoy's startled host. |
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Then hail to Hugh O'Donnell!
Hail, Clan Donnell, hail! Out of far Tyrconnell
Hosting to Kinsale! Oh, heroes of Blackwater, Stay not your swords of slaughter, Until your foes ye scatter
Headlong through the Pale. |
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H. 4868. |
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