What's the news? What's the news? O my bold Shelmalier,
With your long barrel'd gun of the sea.
Say what wind from the north blows your messenger here,
With a hymn to the dawn of the free?
Goodly news, goodly news do I bring, youth of Forth.
Goodly news shall you hear, Bargy man.
For the boys march at dawn from the south to the north
Led by Kelly the Boy from Killanne.
Tell me who is the giant with the gold [black] curly hair,
He who rides at the head of the band?
Seven feet is his height, with some inches to spare,
And he looks like a king in command!
Oh me boys that's the pride of the bold Shemaliers
He's the greatest of heroes, a man!
Fling your beavers aloft and give three rousing cheers
For John [young] Kelly, the boy from Killanne!
Enniscorthy's in flames, and ould Wexford is won,
And the Barrow tomorrow we'll cross.
On a hill o'er the town we have planted a gun
That will shatter the gateway to Ross!
All the Forth men and Bargy men march o'er the heath,
With brave Harvey to lead in the van.
But the foremost of all in that grim gap of death
Will be Kelly the Boy from Killanne!
But the gold sun of freedom grew darkened at Ross,
And it set by the Slaney's red waves.
And poor Wexford, stript naked, hung high on a cross
Wit her her heart pierced by traitors and slaves!
Glory-o, glory-o to the brave sons who died
For the cause of long down-trodden man!
Glory-o to Mount Leinster's own darling and pride,
Dauntless Kelly the Boy from Killanne!
With your long barrel'd gun of the sea.
Say what wind from the north blows your messenger here,
With a hymn to the dawn of the free?
Goodly news, goodly news do I bring, youth of Forth.
Goodly news shall you hear, Bargy man.
For the boys march at dawn from the south to the north
Led by Kelly the Boy from Killanne.
Tell me who is the giant with the gold [black] curly hair,
He who rides at the head of the band?
Seven feet is his height, with some inches to spare,
And he looks like a king in command!
Oh me boys that's the pride of the bold Shemaliers
He's the greatest of heroes, a man!
Fling your beavers aloft and give three rousing cheers
For John [young] Kelly, the boy from Killanne!
Enniscorthy's in flames, and ould Wexford is won,
And the Barrow tomorrow we'll cross.
On a hill o'er the town we have planted a gun
That will shatter the gateway to Ross!
All the Forth men and Bargy men march o'er the heath,
With brave Harvey to lead in the van.
But the foremost of all in that grim gap of death
Will be Kelly the Boy from Killanne!
But the gold sun of freedom grew darkened at Ross,
And it set by the Slaney's red waves.
And poor Wexford, stript naked, hung high on a cross
Wit her her heart pierced by traitors and slaves!
Glory-o, glory-o to the brave sons who died
For the cause of long down-trodden man!
Glory-o to Mount Leinster's own darling and pride,
Dauntless Kelly the Boy from Killanne!
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