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PETER CROWLEY As I rambled out on evening in the holy month of June, I strayed into an old churchyard for to view a noble tomb, I overheard an old man say as tears rolled from his eyes, It's underneath that cold, green sod brave Peter Crowley lies. Then tell me Peter Crowley, come tell me, tell me true Who stepped into Kilcloony Wood, that day along with you, Who stood behind that broad oak tree and fired that signal gun, Who fought and died for Ireland, 'twas you my darling son. The man who fired the signal went to his lone abode For many a mile he shouldered it a dark and dreary road Stiff and cold it's there you lie a stoirin geal mo chroi, Because you were a Fenian bold and fought for liberty. God rest you Peter Crowley, you sleep beneath the clay But someday you'll return again to lead us in the fray, With a thousand men at your command, be they all both loyal and true, That will conquer English , Dutch and Dane as Irishmen can do. Peter O'Neill Crowley, of Ballymacoda in Co. Cork, was involved in the abortive Fenian Rising in 1867. He was trapped in Kilcloony WOod near Mitchelstwon, with another COrkman called Kelly and "Captain McClure", who was an American of Irish parentage (fought in the Civil War). Crowley was shot. The others were captured , sentenced to death but reprieved as a result of protests by the American Gover nment. ALTERNATE VERSION: PETER CROWLEY As I rambled out on evening in the holy month of June, I strayed into an old churchyard for to view a noble tome, I overheard an old man say as the tears fell from his eyes, It's beneath that cold, cold, clay today, brave Peter Crowley lies. The grave where Peter Crowley lies o'er it the grass grows green, And underneath poor Peter sleeps because he loved the Green, It would break your heart to see him there a hero once in bloom, 'Twas untimely death that brought him there to fill a silent tomb. Oh Crowley, Old Crowley come tell to me the truth, Who walked along with you that night through Kilcloney's lonely wood, Who stood beside that brave old oak and fired the signal gun, Who fought and died for Ireland's pride 'twas none but your only son. So fare thee well young Crowley and fare thee well again, 'Tis many the mile we soldiered with you through valley hill and glen, Stiff and still now there you lie a stoirin geal mo chroi, Because you were a Fenian boy and you died for liberty. Now to conclude and finish for I have no more to say, May the almighty and eternal God soon raise you from the clay, With a thousand men at your command, and they both loyal and true, That will conquer English tyrants, as brave Irishmen will do. @Irish @rebel filename[ PETECROW MR |
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