And now that man of demon guilt
To fated Wexford flew—
The red blood reeking on his hilt,
Of hearts to Erin true!
3. He found them there—the young, the old—
The maiden and the wife;
Their guardians brave, in death were cold,
Who dared for them the strife—
They prayed for mercy. God on high!
Before Thy cross they prayed,