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Battle Songs

 

 

O'Donnell Abu [The Clan Connaill War Song]

 

Proudly the note of the trumpet is sounding
Loudly the war cries arise on the gale
Fleetly the steed by Lough Swilly is bounding
To join the thick squadrons on Saimer's green vale


On every mountaineer, strangers to flight or fear
Rush to the standard of dauntless Red Hugh
Bonnaught and Gallowglass, throng from each mountain
Pass onward for Erin, O'Donnell Abu!


Princely O'Neill to our aid is advancing
With many a chieftain and warrior clan
A thousand proud steeds in his vanguard are prancing
'Neath the borderers brave from the Banks of the Bann


Many a heart shall quail under its coat of mail
Deeply the merciless foeman shall rue
When on his ears shall ring borne on the breeze's wing
Tyr Connell's dread war cry, O'Donnell Abu!

 

Wildly o'er Desmond the war wolf is howling
Fearless the eagle sweeps over the plain
The fox in the streets of the city is prowling
And all who would scare them are banished or slain


On with O'Donnell then, fight the old fight again
Sons of Tyr Connell are valiant and true
Make the proud saxon feel Erin's avenging steel
Strike for your country, O'Donnell Abu!

 

 

The Rising of the Moon

 

And then 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 at the rising of the moon
At the rising of the moon, at 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 gathering is to be
At the old spot on the river quite well known to you and me
One more word for signal token, whistle out the marching tune
And 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 of many a mud walled cabin eyes were watching though the night
Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed morning's light
Murmurs ran along the valley like 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 hoorah me boys for freedom 'tis the rising of the moon
'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon

 


 

 

 

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