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EBBA 20963

Magdalene College - Pepys
Ballad XSLT Template
Major General Kirks
Happy Arrival,
To the Releif of London-Derry : with some Particulars, Relating to his Glorious
Undertaking.
Tune of, Liggan Water, Or, Glory of London-Derry Licensed according to Order.

N Ow the joyful day appears,
Which removes our panick fears:
Bringing comfort, joy and light:
Instead of dark and dismal night.

We have been overjoy'd with tales,
Blown about by factious gales:
Simple people to deceive
And of their courage to bereave.

But the truth I here declare,
To all such as loyal are:
And will boldly serve the King,
To them most happy news I bring.

London-derry is releiv'd,
And from bloody Fate repreiv'd:
If the manner you would know,
T he same I will in few words show.

Enniskilling men most brave:
Arm'd their Country for to save:
Marching were upon the way,
To Balishanon Town one day.

Whom the Duke of Berwick met,
Having all the fields beset:
With five thousand chosen boys
The flower of mounsieurs & dear-joys,

Streight a battel fierce begun,
Streams of blood along did run:
Many hours they held the fight,
And all with equall strength & might.

Till the Protestants at last,
Found their powder gan to wast:
Then with But-end they attack
The Irish who streight give their back.

Hotly they pursue the spoil,
Hunt their game into the Toyl:
Some they took but more they kill'd,
Remaining Masters of the field.

This Defeat hath struck a damp,
Into the French and Irish Camp:
They confused counsels take,
And self destroying Orders make.

Fearing they han't force enough,
Draw their men from Derry-Lough:
Thus the way they naked give
For Kirk the Citty to Releive.

He (as prudent Generalls use
No advantage to refuse:)

Streight return'd with wind and tide,
Into the Lough again to ride.

Where the Banks disarm'd he found,
Former Guards had quit their Ground
Only Killmore Castle sent
Two Bullets in a Compliment.

T hus encourag'd he made on,
Seeing all his foes were gone,
T ill to Derry Walls he came,
Out-stripping the Career of Fame.

T hen with Arms he stor'd the T own,
Sent them from the English Crown:
And whole Tuns of wholesome Beef,
With other meats for their Releif.

But for Men they needed none,
They'd enough if half were gone:
All united in this Sence,
T o Die in that brave T owns defence.

FINIS.

London, Printed for A. Milbourn, at the Stationers Arms in Green-
Arbour-Court in the Little-Old-Baily

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