| «Tell me, tell me, Sean OґFarrell, tell me why you hurry so?»
|
| «Hush mavoughal, hush and listen,» and his face was all aglow
|
| «I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon
|
| With your pike upon your shoulder for the rising of the moon»
|
| «Tell me, tell me, Sean OґFarrell, where the gatherinґ is to be?»
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| «Near the old spot by the river, right well known to you and me»
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| «One more thing, the signal token?» |
| «Whistle up the marching tune
|
| For our pikes must be together by the rising of the moon»
|
| Out from many a mud-walled cabin, eyes were lookinґ through the night
|
| Many a manly heart was throbinґ for the blessed morning light
|
| A cry arose along the river, like some bansheeґs mournful croon
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| And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon
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| All along the shining river one black mass of men was seen
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| And above them in the night wind floated our immortal green
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| Death to every foe and traitor. |
| Onward, strike the marching tune
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| And hurrah me boys for freedom, itґs 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.
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| But thank God eґen now are beating hearts in mankindґs burning noon,
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| Who will follow in their footsteps, at the rising of the moon. |