Many anthems and tunes are being wielded around for the tea parties. This one struck a chord with me.
Being a history buff, a lover of Celtic heritage (I am about as Irish as Napoleon) and a father often intersects in strange places. My boys and I love to sing to the Pub music that speaks of things too “mature” for them, but make them clap and laugh anyway. My oldest son, William loves “By the Rising of the Moon” in particular — his moon song. Not exactly PC and definiety not something Dora / Diego would sing. Well, on the car ride over the weekend, I listened to the tune in light of our current political situation.
Have a read, but I recommend the version by The Clancy Brothers, but if you can hear it live by anyone – do it! (I wish I could hear it from Flogging Molly or the Pogues of old.)
And come, 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 gath’rin is to be?”
“In the old spot by the river, quite well known to you and me.
One more word for signal token:- whistle out the marchin’ tune,
With 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 from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night,
Many a manly heart was beatin, for the blessed morning light.
Murmurs ran along the valleys to 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. At 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 hurrah my boys for freedom; ‘tis the rising of the moon”.
Tis the rising of the moon, tis the rising of the moon
And hurrah my boys for freedom; ‘Tis the rising of the moon”.
Well they fought for poor old Ireland, and full bitter was their fate,
Oh what glorious pride and sorrow, fills the name of ninety-eight!
Yet, thank God, e’en still are beating hearts in manhood burning noon,
Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin’ of the moon
By the rising of the moon, By the rising of the moon
Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin’ of the moon.
