A New SONG
Lately come from
IRELAND.
To the Tune of, Cavaleiro-man.
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I.
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THere was an Irish Army brave,
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That a Popish Prince of Wales would have;
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An Hen-peckt King, and a Priest-ridden Queen,
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They gallantly fought for on the Green,
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they gallantly, etc.
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II.
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They fought with many a bloody Curse,
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But few of their Enemies were the worse;
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They charg'd when they could see no Foes,
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For they love to fight, but hate the blows,
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for they, etc.
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III.
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The Valiant General Tyrconnel,
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Mac Guire, mac Carty and mac Donnel;
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Mac Pope, mac Devil, and all were along,
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With an Army Threescore Thousand strong,
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with an Army, etc.
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IV.
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They plagu'd and plundr'd Protestants well,
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And spansil Thieves good pen-worths did sell;
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They took the Garrisons every where,
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Because no Enemy did appear,
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because no, etc.
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V.
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They charg'd their Guns with Powder & Ball,
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And prim'd their Noses with sneezing all;
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Then (1.) Hannum-an-Diowl you figgs they cry,
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St. Patrick now for Ireland hey,
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St. Patrick now, etc.
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(1) your
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Souls to
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the Devil
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VI.
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At last they heard an English-Drum,
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(2) Huggut a Sasanagh yonder they come;
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Then away they throw both Pike and Gun,
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And Shane, and Teige, and Dermot, do run,
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and Shane, and Teige, etc.
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(2.) be-
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ware the
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English-
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man
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VII.
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Stay a while Teige, arroo (3.) furry, furry, furry,
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No be me shoul, a wirry, wirry, wirry;
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By the Virgin Mary we are all undone,
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For Shane, and Teige, and Dermot do run,
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for Shane, etc.
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VIII.
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Arroo shoulder your Pike, (4.) cur a Peek er da wholen,
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Or else we must pay for the Cows we have sto-len;
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(5.) Fogrim da shian, arroo fire your Gun,
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No be me shoul to de Bogg I will run,
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no be me shoul, etc.
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(4.) put
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your Pike
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on your back.
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(5.) the
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Devil
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take your head.
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IX.
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Now the devil take all our Priests & our Fryars,
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(6.) Der diegh they have left us fast in the bry-ars;
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(7.) Lawmaharrus-Chreist we are all undone,
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For Shane, and Teige, and Dermot do run,
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for Shane, etc.
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X.
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We have lost both Purgat'ry and our Estate,
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Both the Field & the Bench we bragg'd of late;
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For now the good Catholick days are done,
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Since Shane, and Teige, and Dermot do run,
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since Shane, etc.
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XI.
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Dear joys give us leave to return to our brogues,
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We'll burn our Paddreens and leave off to be Ro-gues;
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To serve K. William or any that come,
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Poor Shane, and Teige, and Dermot will run,
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poor Shane, etc.
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XII.
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Our Popish Queen and Catholick Cause,
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We'll quite forsake and yield to the Laws:
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We'll grant our Prince of Wales is beshit,
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And own him to be but a counterfeit Chit,
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and own him to be, etc.
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XIII.
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(8.) A-gra-ma-chree, come do what you will,
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Henceforth we will be for the Protestants still;
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In paying you Rent, and kissing your bum,
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Poor Shane, and Teige, and Dermot will run,
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poor Shane, etc.
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