The moon it shone down on old Dublin town
When the deadly fight was o'er,
Thousands lay on the cold cold ground
Their lives to claim no more.
The moon shone on O'Connell Street
Where a dying young rebel lay
With his body gashed and his arms outstretched
and his life's blood flowing away.
The sufferer soon was found.
Softly, gently he raised his head
Up from the cold cold ground.
Softly, gently, "Comrade", he cried,
"No longer on earth can I stay.
I will never more roam through my own native home,
Tipperary so far away."His comrades gathered around him
To bid him a last farewell.
He was as true and as brave a lad
That ever in battle fell.
They dug a grave and in it they laid
The bones of Sean Treacy so brave,
He will never more roam to his native home,
Tipperary so far away.