| lyric | 1. Oh, then tell me Sean O' Farrell, tell me why you hurry so?
Hush, me buchall, hush and listen and his cheeks were all aglow,
I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon,
for the pikes must be together by the rising of the Moon.
2. Oh then tell me, Sean O’Farrell, where the gathering is to be,
In the old spot by the river, right well known to you and me.
One more word for signal token, whistle up the marching tune,
With your pike upon your shoulder, by the rising of the moon.
3. Out from many a mudwall cabin eyes were watching through the night,
Many a manly heart was throbbing for the blessed warning light.
Murmurs passed along the valley like banshee’s lonely croon,
And athousand blades were flashing at the rising of the moon.
4. There beside the singing river that dark mass of men were seen,
Far above the shinig weapons hung their own beloved green.
Death to every foe and traitor, forward strike the marching tune,
And hurray, my boys for freedom, étis the rising of the moon.
5. Well they fought for poor old Ireland and full bitter was their fate,
Oh what glorious pride and sorrow fills the name of ninety eight.
Yet, thank God, while hearts are beating in manhood’s burning noon,
We will follow in the footsteps at the rising of the moon. |