And come, tell me Sean O'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so?
Hush a bhuachaill, 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
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together at the rising of the moon
And come tell me Sean O'Farrell, where the gath'rin is to be?
In the old spot by the river, quite well known to you and me
One more word for signal token: whistle out the marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder, at the rising of the moon
At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon
With your pike upon your shoulder, at the rising of the moon
Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night
Many a manly heart was beatin, for the blessed morning light
Murmurs ran along the valleys to the banshee's lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon
All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen
High above their shining weapons, flew their own beloved green
Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune
And hurrah my boys for freedom; tis the rising of the moon
Tis the rising of the moon, tis the rising of the moon
And hurrah my boys for freedom; tis the rising of the moon
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, e'en still are beating hearts in manhood burning noon
Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin' of the moon
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin' of the moon
