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 warlike cry; "Arm! Arm!" he cried, "For I've come to lead you, For Ireland's freedom we will 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 Booky's Regiment how men could fight. Look out for hirelings, King George of England, Search ev'ry kingdom where breathes a slave, For Father Murphy of the County Wexford Sweeps o'er the land like a mighty wave. We took Camolin and Enniscorthy, And Wexford storming drove out our foes; 'Twas at Sliabh Coillte our pikes were reeking With the crimson stream of the beaten Yeos. At Tubberneering and Ballyellis Full many a Hessian lay in his gore; Ah, Father Murphy, had aid come over The green flag floated from shore to shore! 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 the 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.