At Boolavogue as the sun was setting O'er the bright May meadows of Shelmalier, A rebel hand set the heather blazing And brought the neighbours from far and near.
Then Father Murphy from old Kilcormack Spurred up the rocks with a warning cry: «Arm! Arm!» he cried, «For I've come to lead you; For Ireland's freedom we'll fight or die!».
He led us on against the coming soldiers, And the cowardly yeomen we put to flight: 'Twas at the Harrow the boys of Wexford Showed Bookey's regiment how men could fight.
Look out for hirelings, King George of England; Search every kingdom where breathes a slave, For Father Murphy of County Wexford Sweeps o'er the land like a mighty wave.
At Vinegar Hill, o'er the pleasant Slaney Our heroes vainly stood back to back, And the Yeos at Tullow took Father Murphy And burned his body upon a rack.
God grant you glory, brave Father Murphy And open Heaven to all your men, The cause that called you may call tomorrow In another fight for the Green again.