A DIALOGUE between a
French and Irish Officer,
Concerning their Leaving LIMERICK,
With their full Resolution to go for FRANCE, and inform the late King James
of all their Misfortunes.
Tune, Let Caesar Live Long.
|
OH Brother Teague what shall we now do,
|
For that Army thats come now does make us look blew;
|
The English came up like men of great might,
|
We shall never be able to stand them one fight
|
For their Cannons do rattle, & drums they do play
|
We hold it convenient for to go away.
|
The Dutch men are stout, & strong in the field
|
They will die for great William before they will yield;
|
Their Looks they are grim, with a Voice when they speak,
|
The thoughts of a Dutch man does make my heart quake
|
And their Cannons do rattle, & Drums they do play,
|
We hold it convenient for to go away.
|
The Danes they did fight for Englands brave Crown,
|
And they are fully resolved to beat Popery down
|
Their Noble Commanders will die in the field,
|
To make all the French men & Irish men yield,
|
For their Cannons do rattle, and Drums they do play,
|
We hold it convenient for to go away.
|
There is not a Commander not one amongst ten,
|
That dare to Encounter with the English men;
|
For why? they are Couragious, not fearing to die
|
They scorn from the face of a Tory to fly,
|
And their Cannons, etc.
|
We will go to France, where James we shall see,
|
And there will unfold our great misery,
|
Against all the Forces that to K. William is come
|
We will go and take Shipping, and all Sail to Rome.
|
For their Cannons, etc.
|
All our Army now doth to France Repair,
|
We must leave all our Castles and Towns e'ry where
|
Unto all the English, for why they do say,
|
Fight on my brave Boys, for we have won the Day,
|
And their Cannons, etc.
|
There is not one Battle that ever was fought,
|
But that all the French men was put to the rout
|
and all by K. William, who never would yield
|
But fight for to Conquer, or die in the field,
|
And their Cannons, etc.
|
Our designs they are Crost as this we may see,
|
Which has brought our Church to great misery
|
For getting a Prince to be true to the Crown,
|
the Hereticks beat our Wooden Gods down,
|
For their Cannons, etc.
|
Welcome now Brother, we will leave the town
|
And stand to the mercy of Englands brave Crown,
|
Altho' in Rebellion long time we have stood,
|
Against all the English and Protestants good,
|
For great William is merciful as we may see,
|
We hope for a Pardon for thee and for me.
|
|
|
|
|
|