What's the news, what's the news, O my bow-shelled allure, With your long-barrelled guns from the sea?Say, what wind from the south brings a messenger here, With the hymn of the dawn for the free?Goodly news, goodly news, do I bring you forth, Goodly news, shall you hear, bargy man?All the boys march on from the south to the north, Led by Kelly, the boy from Calan.Tell me, who is the giant with the gold-curling hair, He who rides at the head of your band?Seven feet is his height, with some inches to spare, And he looks like a king in command.O my boys, that's the pride of the bow-shelled veneers, Marks the greatest of heroes, a man.Fling your beavers aloft, and give clearing and cheers, For John Kelly, the boy from Calan.In the Scorpies, in flames, and our wags for this one, At the barrow tomorrow we will cross.On the hill or the town we have planted a gun, That will batter the gateway to Ross.All the foremen and bargy men will march o'er the heath, With brave army to lead in the van.But the foremost of all in the grim gap of death, Will be Kelly, the boy from Calan.But the gold sun of freedom grew darkened at Ross, And it set by the Slaney's red wave.And poor Wexford, stripped naked, hung high on a cross, With her heart pierced by traitors and slaves.Glory, oh, glory, oh, to her brave sons who died, For the cause of long down-trodden man.Glory, oh, to North Leinster's own darling and pride, Dauntless Kelly, the boy from Calan.