Lyr Req: The Ford of the Brosna

Subject: Lyr Req: The Ford of the Brosna
From: Joe Offer
Date: 01 May 20 - 05:36 PM

Anybody have these lyrics so I don't have to transcribe them?
https://books.google.com/books?id=patCAQAAMAAJ&pg=PA309#v=onepage&q&f=false

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Ford of the Brosna
From: GUEST,Starship
Date: 01 May 20 - 09:18 PM

THE FORD OF THE BROSNA.
A LEGEND on THE KING’S COUNTY.

A DEADLY oath Sir John Delisle, the Norman baron, swore,
That he would hunt O’Coughlan's clan and ravage Tullamore;
Then called his chiefs and soldiers all, and proudly rode away
To where, beside the Brosna’s tide, the Irish chieftain lay.

Within the woods that summer day, as slowly sank the sun,
With ready hand and naked blade lay troopers many a one,
And steed and rider harnessed wait and watch with eager eye
To see if on the evening breeze the Norman banners fly.

On Clara’s meads the sunbeams gleam and Durrow’s abbey gray,
And sweetly chimes the vesper bell that calls the nuns to pray ;
The Brosna’s waves in calm repose lie slumbering and still,
And quiet reigns from Tulla’s plains to Clogan’s distant hill.

Upon the river’s grassy bank in all his pride appears
The fierce and frowning Norman knight, flanked by a thousand spears;
And ’tis a goodly sight to see their banners broad displayed,
And the last parting sunbeam blaze on helm and battle blade.

To reach the Brosna’s narrow ford they spur with headlong speed,
And o’er the soft and mossy sward flies fast the willing steed;
They reach the river-side, and now both steed and rider strain
Their utmost strength to breast the tide, the further shore to gain.

But from the woods that lined the shore came rushing to the strand
Full thrice three hundred armed men, O’Coughlan’s Irish band.
And ’gainst the Norman troops they rush, still struggling with the tide,
That, swollen now, o’erflows its banks and bursts from either side.

Fiercely the Irish axes ring on cuirass and on crown,
And, pierced through helmet, brain, and mail, the Norman knights go down ;
And beaten backward by the blades that round them fiercely gleam,
One-half their bravest troopers fall and perish in the stream.

And they who gain the river’s bank in terror and despair
Spur hard and fast to reach their towers and strongholds in Kildare;
But fast behind O’Coughlan’s clan with sword and axe pursue,
And rings upon the evening breeze their fierce and loud aboo!

The river’s banks are strewn with dead, and purpled is its tide,
And all around the sward is red with blood of feeman dyed:
And far and near lie heaped and strewn upon the Brosna’s shore
The braggart Norman knights who came to plunder Tullamore.


Source: The Ballads, Songs and Poems of William Collins , pp 309-311

https://books.google.com/books?id=patCAQAAMAAJ&pg=PA309#v=onepage&q&f=false

I think that's all of it.