"Good men and true in this house who dwell,
To a stranger buachaill I pray you tell,
Is the priest at home and may he be seen?
I would speak a word with Father Green."

"The Priest's at home, boy, and may be seen,
Tis easy speaking with Father Green,
But you must wait till I go and see,
If the Holy Father alone may be."

The youth has entered an old ball hall,
For a lonely sound has his light footfall,
And in the chamber so dark and bare,
Sat a vested priest in a lonely chair.

The youth has knelt for to tell his sins,
"In ainm an Dé," the youth begins,
At "mea culpa" he strikes his breast,
And in broken murmurs he breaths the rest.

"I cursed three times since last Easter day,
At mass time once I went to play,
I passed the churchyard one day in haste,
And forgot to pray for my mother's rest.

"At the siege of Ross did my father fall,
And at Gorey my loving brothers all,
I alone am left of my name and race,
I will go to Wexford and take their place.

"I bear no hate against living things,
But I love my country above all kings,
So, Father, bless me and let me go,
To die, if God has ordained it so."

The priest said nought, but a rustling noise,
Made the youth look above in wild surprise,
The robes were off, and in scarlet there,
Sat a yoeman captain with fiery glare.

With fiery glare and with fury hoarse,
Instead of blessing, he breathed a curse,
"Twas a good thought, boy, to come here to shrive,
For one lonely hour is your time to live."

"Upon yon river three tenders float,
The Priest's in one if he isn't shot,
We hold his house for our Lord the King,
And, amen say I, may all traitors swing!"

At Geneva Barracks that young man died,
And at Passage they have his body laid,
Good men who live in peace and joy,
Breathe a prayer, shed a tear for the Croppy Boy.