The Rising of the Moon

2. "O then, tell me Sean O'Farrell,
Where the gath'rin' 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 marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder,
By the rising of the moon."
Chorus:

4. There beside the singing river,
That dark mass of men were seen
Far above the shining weapons
Hung their own beloved green
Death to every foe and traitor,
Forward, strike the marching tune
And hurrah, my boys, for freedom,
Tis the rising of the moon.
Chorus:

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
Yes, thank God, e'en still are beating hearts
In manhood's burning noon
Who would follow in their footsteps
At the rising of the moon.
Chorus: