The Martyr Poem by Francis Duggan

He lived in Ballydaly a noble Irishman
Executed by the British just because he loved Ireland
And though the time has long passed by his story must be told
Like every Irish martyr he was noble true and bold

He was arrested for possessing arms and received an unfair trial
And was scorned by the pretence judge who treated him so vile
The so called soldiers who murdered him in that grimy prison cell
Are surely all with satan now down in his accursed hell.

He was buried in a dungeon far from his native home
And over this man's coffin no Irish flag was flown
He died like a true hero under gunfire he did fall
And he gave his life for Ireland with his back against a wall.

There's little doubt Con Murphy was a truly noble man
He loved his Country Ireland and he hated Black and Tan
And all things of life must die someday and what better way to depart
Than as a martyr for your Country with a bullet in your heart.

Men like him will be remembered until the end of time
The true love of his Country was his sole and only crime
Too many of our better men in troubled times have died,
Too many Irish mothers have broken down and cried.

His memory is well preserved in nearby Millstreet Town
The Terrace a memorial to honour his renown
Con Murphy died a martyr and brought glory to his name
To rid Ireland of British rule his unselfish life aim.