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.
|
|
|
|