From Street Ballads, Popular Poetry, and Household Songs of Ireland, Second Edition, collected and arranged by Duncathail [pseud.] (Dublin: McGlashan & Gill, 1865), page 42:

THE RISING OF THE MOON.
A. D. 1798.
Anonymous (Leo).

"Oh, then, tell me, Shawn O'Ferrall,
Tell me why you hurry so?"
"Hush! ma bouchal, hush, and listen;"
And his cheeks were all a-glow:
"I bear ordhers from the Captain—
Get you ready quick and soon;
For the pikes must be together
At the risin' of the Moon."

"Oh, then, tell me, Shawn O'Ferrall,
Where the gath'rin' is to be?"
"In the ould spot by the river,
Right well known to you and me;
One word more—for signal token,
Whistle up the marchin' tune,
With your pike upon your shoulder,
By the risin' of the Moon."

Out from many a mud-wall cabin
Eyes were watching thro' that night;
Many a manly chest was throbbing
For the blessed warning light.
Murmurs passed along the valleys,
Like the banshee's lonely croon,
And a thousand blades were flashing
At the risin' of the Moon.

There, beside the singing river,
That dark mass of men were seen—
Far above the shining weapons
Hung their own beloved "Green."
"Death to ev'ry foe and traitor!
Forward! strike the marchin' tune,
And hurrah, my boys, for freedom!
'Tis the risin' 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's burning noon,
Who would follow in their footsteps
At the risin' of the Moon!