Antone know the words of this irish poem ''anseo i lar an ghleanna''??

My Lord - what an obscure reference! Here is the text in English. Let me know if you need the untranslated text.

The title is actually:
"Anseo i lar an GheleSean Mac Fheorais"

The Mass was over and everything else was done
God's congregation was dispersing

When we heard the noise coming in our direction
Here in the middle of the Glen

What sound is that coming in our direction?
That is the sound of the hooves of horses
The soldiers of the kings are coming towards us
Here in the middle of the Glen

The old man Brian O'Lao
walked toward the priest and he whispered in his ear
Here in the middle of the Glen

Oh Father Sean Oh Father Sean
the redcoats are coming towards us
You have to change to escape now
Here in the middle of the Glen

You are young Father Sean
I am at the end of my life
Change clothes with me now
Here in the middle of the Glen

They changed their clothes
without much delay
Against the wishes of the Priest
And he shed great tears of sorrow
Here in the middle of the Glen

The soldiers captured old Brian O'Lao
And the Priest went free
they hanged Brian on a tall slender tree
Here in the middle of the Glen

But the fame of the brave old man will live on
As long as grass grows on the ground
His story will be related by the Irish people

Here in the middle of the Glen
Here in the middle of the Glen

You seem to want this badly, so I'll post this answer to your other versions of this question to ensure that you see it.
What did you need it for, anyway?

Does any man dream that a Gael can fear?
Of a thousand deeds let him learn but one!
The Shannon swept onwards broad and clear,
Between the leaguers and broad Athlone.


'Break down the bridge!' - Six warriors rushed
Through the storm of shot and the storm of shell;
With late but certain victory flushed.
The grim Dutch gunners eyed them well.


They wrench'd at the planks 'mid a hail of fire;
They fell in death, their work half done;
The bridge stood fast; and nigh and nigher
The foe swarmed darkly, densely on.


They wrench'd at the planks 'mid a hail of fire;
They fell in death, their work half done;
The bridge stood fast; and nigh and nigher
The foe swarmed darkly, densely on.


"Oh, who for Erin, will strike a stroke?
Who hurl yon planks where the waters roar?
Six warriors forth from their comrades broke,
And flung them upon that bridge once more.


Again at the rocking planks they dashed;
And four dropped dead, and two remained;
The huge beams groaned, and the arch down-crashed -
Two stalwart swimmers the margin gained.


St. Ruth in his stirrups stood up, and cried,
"I have seen no deed like that in France!"
With a toss of his head, Sarsfield replied,
"They had luck, the dogs!'Twas a merry chance!


O many a year, upon Shannon's side,
They sang upon moor and they sang upon heath,
Of the twain that breasted that raging tide,
And the ten that shook bloody hands with Death!