O'Neill's Complaint

The battle is done

The tide is in run

And soon I must hasten away

From high on a hill

The cannons are still

And I must from Kinsale depart

Oh Ireland mourns for sons, she has born

And men they shall never become

Tell all of our company still left alive

The House of O'Neill is no more

December shall pass

And this poor Gallowglas

Must turn from the conquering foe

This Christmas we found

Gave Mountjoy the ground

His cavalry soon took the field

Oh Ireland mourns for sons, she has born

And men they shall never become

Tell all of our company still left alive

The House of O'Neill is no more

Our fortitude lost guns useless with frost

We fled to the neighboring town

With provisions there, we rationed our fare

But hunger soon mastered our cause

Oh Ireland mourns for sons, she has born

And men they shall never become

Tell all of our company still left alive

The House of O'Neill is no more

The battle is done

The tide is in run

And soon I must hasten away

From high on the hill

The cannons are still

And I must from Kinsale depart