THE
Irish Rebels Routed:
OR,
A brief Relation of the Victorious Conquest by the
Protestants over the French & Irish at CAVAN:
To the great Encouragement of the Protestant Party, as it was sent in a Let-
ter from a Soldier in Ireland to his Love in London.
To the Tune of Liggan Water. Licensed according to Order.
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LET Loyal Subjects now attend,
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To the Lines that here are penn'd,
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Which lately came from Ireland,
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As you in brief shall understand.
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A Souldier writing to his Love,
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He said, My Dear and Turtle-Dove,
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Tho' in this Kingdom Thousands fell,
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Yet still I am alive and well.
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But here's one thing I do declare,
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By us the Rebels routed were;
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For in a sharp and bloudy fray,
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We Protestants did win the day.
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They manner how we did proceed,
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To make those Romish Rebels bleed;
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In brief to you I will unfold,
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Brave noble, valiant Hearts of Gold.
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From Belturbat did march away
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All Night, till Morning break of day;
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Whereas by chance we did espie
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Four thousand of the Enemy.
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The Duke of Berwick did Command
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Those Rebels which could never stand
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Against true Protestants of Might,
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Who did with Resolution Fight.
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Our noble brave Commanders cry'd,
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Charge, and give Fire, let the Pride
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Of French and Tories blasted be,
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While you are Crown'd with Victory.
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Couragious Lads, Fight, Kill, and Wound,
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And give them not an Inch of Ground,
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But send them Shots like showers of Hail,
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The which will soon their Courage quail.
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This so encourag'd e'ery Man,
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That we like Lyons streight fell on;
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Our Guns did then like Thunder Roar,
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While Teagues lay reeking in their Gore.
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Both sharp and hot was the Dispute,
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While we the Tories did salute;
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And Berwick's horse under him kill'd,
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At which he was with Horrour fill'd.
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The sight of this did so dismay
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His forces, that they ran away,
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As swift as any nimble Deer,
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While we pursu'd them in the Rear.
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Three hundred Rebels there we slew,
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With many chief Commanders too;
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Our Conqu'ring Sword did reap the Fie[ld],
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And made the Proud and Haughty yield.
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We Protestants the Lord did bless,
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With so much happy true Success,
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That scarce full Twenty Men in all
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Did in this Expedition fall.
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No sooner we the Coast had clear'd,
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But we our Hearts with Liquor chear'd,
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In drinking Healths to that great King,
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Whose fame shall thorough Europe Ring.
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To Head his Army he will come,
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Who is the Pride of Christendom,
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And for whose sake we are all agreed,
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To Fight while we have drop to bleed.
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When as King William he comes o'er,
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The News will spread from shore to shore,
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But when his foes do hear his fame,
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They'll tremble at his Royal Name.
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