Bodenstown Churchyard - Rovers Irish

In Bodenstown churchyard there is a green grave,

And wildly around it the winter winds rave;

Small shelter I ween are the ruined walls there

When the storm sweeps down on the plains of Kildare.

Once I lay on that sod it lies over Wolfe Tone

And thought how he perished in prison alone,

His friends unavenged and his country unfreed

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