I speak with grandeur one night in slumber,
My mind did wander near to Athlone,
The centre station of this Irish nation,
A congregation unto me was shown,
Beyond my counting upon a mountain,
Near to a fountain that clearly ran,
My feet did tremble, I'll not dissemble,
As they assembled for the Rights of Man.

All clad in green there I thought I seen,
A virtuous queen who was grave and old,
Saying, "Children dear now, do not fear,
But come and hear what I will unfold,
This fertile country for seven centuries,
Since Strongbow's entry upon our land,
Has been kept under with woes unnumbered,
And always plundered of the Rights of Man."

"My cause you chided, you so derided,
And when divided alas you know,
All in disorder round Erin's border,
Strife, grief and murder have left you low,
Let each communion detest disunion,
In love and union join hand in hand,
And believe old Gráinne that proud Britannia,
Shall no more rob you of the Rights of Man."

Then I caught the crowd, they all spoke aloud,
And fighting stopped and vowed to take advice,
They seemed delighted and all united,
Not to be frightened but to rejoice,
Her harp so pleasing, she played amazing,
I still stood gazing but could not understand,
She sang most enchanting and most endearing,
Saying, "Always be true to the Rights of Man.".