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 rock with a warning cry,
"Arm! Arm!" he cried, "I've come to lead you,
For Ireland's freedom we'll fight or die."

Oh, he led us on gainst the coming soldiers,
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.

Well we took Camolin and Enniscorthy,
And Wexford storming drove out our foe,
Twas at Slieve Coillte our pikes they were reeking,
With the crimson blood 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 it floated from shore to shore.

Well at Vinegar Hill, o'er the pleasant Slaney,
Our heroes vainly stood back to back,
The yeos at Tullow took Father Murphy,
They burned his body upon the rack.

God grant you glory, brave Father Murphy,
And open the heavens to all your men,
The cause that called you may call tomorrow,
In another fight for the green again.

Yes the cause that called you may call tomorrow,
In another fight for the green again.