These are the words as I recorded them. Apologies for the poor grammar, but I typed them in a hurry.

Shane Crossagh

It's up the heathery mountain and down the rushy glen
Squire Staples has gone hunting Shane Crossagh and his men
And forty mounted yeomen that galloped in a stream,
They swear the gin the gallows work when they come back again

Shane Crossagh was a ploughboy that ploughed near Ballynascreen,
but now he is an outlaw for the wearing of the green
Twas in the Sperrin Mountains far, far from Ballynascreen
they set the bloodhounds on his track for the wearing of the green

The Squire rode a chestnut mare, his brother rode a grey.
Close behind Shane Crossagh they galloped all the day.
They galloped all the day and they hunted him by night.
They seldom let the outlaw one moment out of sight

Then said Torrens the farmer, we have him now
I know the bloodhounds they are on his track, he cannot leap the Roe
The river now was deep, it's channel twelve yards wide,
the banks were high and steep, overhanging on each side

Shane Crossagh had a wolfhound that ne'er parted him
and as the hounds drew near him he tore them limb from limb
My dear friend said the outlaw, as tears began to flow
my gallant hound we'll are both free if we can leap the Roe

Then up the hound he gave a bounce, Shane Crossagh now I know
then with a shout they both leaped out and they have leapt the Roe
And they have leapt the Roe and defied their every foe.
Ballynascreen will yet be seen by the Man who leapt the Roe

A good leap said the Squire when he saw the chase was won,
Not too great said the outlaw for such a length of run.
But mark me squire staples when you come back again
you'll wish the river Roe between Shane Crossagh and your men.

Squire Staples and his yeomen came hurrying down Glenshane.
Right weary and dejected, their chase was all in vain.
Their chase was all in vain and Shane Crossagh called amain.
Right well we'll win, we'll meet the green before we cross Glenshane

Old Feeny bridge was broken and on the search was seen
by them a fearful token, a bunch of holly green.
And from behind a grey rock a whistling ball has sped
and Torrens, then, the farmer fell from his charger dead

Then up spoke Squire Staples, Shane Crossagh let me live
and for your hounds a thousand pounds in yellow gold I'll give
And bring your arms here singly and bring them unto me,
for I must bind your yeomen each man unto a tree

It's bound now is Squire Staples you'll find him in the glen,
the outlaw's force consisted of seven gallant men,
of seven gallant men, my boys, of seven gallant men.
And with despair he tore his hair and wept for Shane amain.


I found the song in Sam Henry's Songs of the People. I recently moved house and cannot find the notes I had on the song, but I think they may have been from the same source as Jim McFarland has already posted.

One way or another, it's a great song and a hell of a story!
m.d.