Mid the green glens of Antrim
Saint Patrick oft prayed,
Ere Danesor vile Saxons
Our land did invade;
The faith of our Patron
Is still burning bright
Where Casement was born
And first saw the light.
With such light he advanced
To redeem our fair land
From the throes and the wiles
Of a cruel sordid band –
The zeal of his Gospel
Consigned him to fill
The grave of a martyr
In lone Pentonville.
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