'The Pikes Must Be Together By The Rising Of The Moon Husha Buachaill Hush'

BY THE RISING OF THE MOON

Words by J.K. Casey, Music by Turlough O’Carolan

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell tell me why you hurry so
Husha buachaill hush and listen and his cheeks were all a glow
I bare orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon Husha buachaill hush and listen and his cheeks were all a glow I bare orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon 

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon 

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be
At 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 by the rising of the moon At 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 by the rising of the moon 

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon 

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night
Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed warning light
Murmurs rang along the valleys to the banshees lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed warning light Murmurs rang along the valleys to the banshees 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 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 hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon 

'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon