’Se Cormac mo stor, ’se rí na bhfear n-og,
A bhi modhuil maiseach muinte gear-chumtha go leor;
Do scriobh se ar an gCoir leis an mbucla bhi ina bhroig,
Gurab i Carraig Aonair a cheile go deo.
S Ta duine eile dom chlainn nar thrachtas air puinn,
Finin, mo chomhgarach, ceann cothuithe an ti,
Thugadh a’ fia leis on gcoill is an bradan on linn,
Fideoga dubha an tsleibhe is gan bhreig an chearc fraoigh.
Is a inion, o mo chroi, na goil-se ’s na caoidh,
Mar gheobhairse togha nuachair dheanfaidh romhar duit is crich;
Ach ni bhfaigheadsa mo mhaoin na mo thriur d’fhearaibh grinn,
Na mo cheathrar lufar de hibairibh graoi.
Is a chlann og mo chroi, no an cuimhin libh mar bhi,
Bhur n-aithirin bocht feinig ag gear-ghol is ag caoi;
’Na chuaille throm crion’ i gcul-fhuar a ’ ti,
Is an bhean atá in áit bhur máthair ní cás léi mar a bhím.
Nuair a theim-se ar an gclai is nuair a fheachaim uaim sios;
Nuair a chim Carraig Aonair sea a phléascann mo chroi;
Is ar ais liom aris go mullach mo thí,
O, ’is gurb í Carraig Aonair is ceile dhom chlainn.