It rings through the mountains of Kerry,
From Tarbert to Cahersiveen,
And wakens proud memories of valour,
In the fights of the days that have been.

And out o'er the green fields of Ireland,
It sweeps with a loud welling peal,
That cry full of anger and sorrow,
"They've murdered young Maurice O'Neill."

And a prayer rises up from the faithful,
The faithful in woe and weal,
"This night mongst the martyrs of Ireland,
God rest you brave Maurice O'Neill."

He sprang from a long line of free men,
Who never bent knee to the foe,
And his heart gave unfaltering allegiance,
To a cause that was trampled and low.

He came to the red gap of danger,
Where thousands had fallen before,
He died like a Gael and a soldier,
And his memory is green evermore.

His name through the darkness of thraldom,
Shines out like the flashing of steel,
And the true hearts of Ireland is calling,
"God bless you brave Maurice O'Neill."

"Let no voice plead for me with the traitors,"
He cried, when the death hour was nigh,
"May the young men be faithful forever,
To the cause that has caused me to die."

"When the deathless Republic of Ireland,
Is rescued from thraldom and shame,
I ask but a place in her memory,
And her soldiers salute to my name."

"And the young men of Ireland make answer,
With the foemen in front of us reel,
And we march to the dawn light of freedom,
Will you march with Maurice O'Neill.".