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The Valley of Knockanure
You may talk or speak about Easter Week,
or the heroes of ninety-eight.
Those fenian men who roamed the glen,
in victory or defeat.
Their names on history's page are told,
their memories shall endure.
Not a song was sung for our darling sons
in the Valley of Knockanure.
There was Walsh and Lyons and the Dalton Boy.
They were young and in their prime.
They rambled to a lonely spot,
where the black and tans did hide.
The Republic bold, they did uphold,
though outlawed on the moor
And side-by-side they fought and died
In the Valley of Knockanure.