RISING OF THE MOON

Oh then tell me Sean O'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so,

Hush me buchall, hush and listen, and his face was all aglow,

I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon,

Wi' your pike upon your shoulder for the rising of the moon.

Oh then tell me Sean O'Farrell, where the gatherin' is to be,

Near the old spot by the river, right well known to you and me,

One more word for signal token, whistle up the marching tunes,

For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon.

Out from many a mud walled cabin, eyes were lookin' through  the

night,

Many a manly heart was throbin' for the blessed warning light,

A cry came from the river, like some banshee's mournful croon,

And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon.

All along the shining river one black mass of men was seen,

And above them in the night wind floated our beloved green,

Death to every foe and traitor, forward strike the marching tune,

And hurrah me boys for freedom, it's the rising of the moon.

Well they fought for dear old Ireland, and full bitter was their fate,

Oh what glorious pride and sorrow fills the name of ninety-eight,

But thank God when hearts are beating in mankind's burning noon,