A great song. The melody is very close to The Granemore Hare. If you need the exact melody (and I think you do), you could always buy Frank Harte's CD, 1798: The First Year of Liberty (Hummingbird HBCD0014). Frank does an excellent rendition. The notes are also very good. The CD would be available online from Ossian in Ireland or Ossian USA.
In Bodentown's churchyard there is a green grave
And wildly around it the wintry winds rave.
Small shelter I ween are the ruined walls there
When the storm sweeps down o'er the plains of Kildare.
Once I lay on that sod it lies over Wolfe Tone
And think how he perished in prison alone,
His friends unavenged and his country unfreed.
Oh bitter, I cried, is the patriot's meed.
How in him the heart of a woman combined
A heroic life and a governing mind?
A martyr for Ireland his grave has no stone,
His name seldom named and his virtue unknown.
I was awoke from my dreams by the voice and the tread
Of a band that came into the home of the dead.
They carried no coffin, they carried no stone
And the stopped when they came to the grave of Wolfe Tone.
There were students and peasants, the wise and the brave
And an old man who knew him from cradle to grave
And the children who thought me hard-hearted when they
On that sanctified sod were forbidden to play.
But an old man who saw I was mourning there said,
"We come, sir, to weep where young Wolfe Tone is laid,
And we are going to raise him a monument too,
A plain one yet fit for the simple and true."
My heart overflowed and I clasped his old hand
And I blessed him and blessed every one in his band.
Sweet, sweet 'tis to find that such faith can remain
In the cause and the man so long vanquished and slain.
In Bodenstown churchyard there is a green grave
And wildly around it the wintry winds rave,
Far better they suit him the ruin and gloom
Until Ireland a nation might build him a tomb.
All the best,