The dreadful days are over, no more the cannons roar, King James has lost the battle and his flag is seen on more And here are we renowned and free by maiden walls surrounded - Poor rebel knaves, vatican slaves, Fly from the wrath of the Orange and Blue.
The Dartmouth spreads her canvas, her purple pennants wave, We hail the gallant Browning who all our lives did save, Like Noah's dove sent from above he brought us peace and safety - Through flood and flame, our hero came, Bringing relief for the Orange and Blue.
The vessel strikes the traitrous boom, does pitch and reel and strand Our papish foes cry out our doom and OPEN GATES demand, And shrill and high we raise the cry of anguish, grief and pity - While black with care, and deep to despair, We do prepare to mourn the Orange and Blue.
But heaven - sent guide and one broadside the gallant barque rebounds And favouring gale does fill the sail whilst hill and vale resounds, The joy-bells ring : GOD SAVE THE KING, farewell to grief and sadness - Poor rebel knaves, vatican slaves, Fly from the wrath of the Orange and Blue.
I'll sing a song of history long, A struggle for the ulster we all love, A border town, a village strong, Whose people made allegiance to the crown,
In Crossmaglen, theres Orangemen, Whose patriotic flame will never die, And when you hear the battle cry, It will be the Orangemen in Crossmaglen,
The IRA's bazoka's roar, Their armalites go crackle in the night, But pretty soon, they'll know the score, The P.A.F. are joining in the fight,
In Crossmaglen, theres Orangemen, Whose patriotic flame will never die, And when you hear the battle cry, It will be the Orangemen in Crossmaglen,
The IRA in Crossmaglen, Who've killed and maimed the Protestants at home, And tried to spread their genocide, Will have to find their sanctuary in Rome,
In Crossmaglen, theres Orangemen, Whose patriotic flame will never die, And when you hear the battle cry, It will be the Orangemen in Crossmaglen,
And some day soon 10,000 strong, The Ulstermen will march from Belfast town, To help their Brothers fight the foe, And rid the IRA from ulsters land,
In Crossmaglen, theres Orangemen, Whose patriotic flame will never die, And when you hear the battle cry, It will be the Orangemen in Crossmaglen
In Crossmaglen, theres Orangemen, Whose patriotic flame will never die, And when you hear the battle cry, It will be the Orangemen in Crossmaglen.
While statesmen now to treason bow, and loyalty betray, And traitor knaves with bigot slaves would take our rights away, To serve their Queen and Country a gallant band appears, Come let us hail, while cowards quail, "The Orange Volunteers."
Sedition's lamp is burning throughout green Erin's Isle, And men, all honour spurning, now speak but to beguile, And to repeal the Union a motley crowd appears, But hark! they come with fife and drum, "The Orange Volunteers."
Let placemen frown to put them down, and peaceful homes invade, Oh! never yet by idle threat were Ulstermen dismayed. They take their stand for native land, and know no paltry fears, These gallant men from hill and glen, "The Orange Volunteers."
"True in these days, when many change, for profit or for dread, True to the same old sacred cause for which our fathers bled," They'll guard the rights brave William won in fam'd and bygone years, Then let us toast, our pride and boast, "The Orange Volunteers."
Come, let us meet in love and glee, Ye Orange brethren, bold and free, And toast in bumpers, 'three times three', The Orange Institution. May it again triumphant stand, The shield of this our lovely land, In spite of that malignant band, Who hate our Constitution.
Think on the year of 'Ninety-eight', When thousands rose against the State, What did their sanguine hopes defeat? The Orange Institution. For in defence of Britain's Crown, Our Orange yeoman of renown, Put the insulting rebels down, And saved our Constitution.
Soon as the Orange system spread, The Popish persecution fled, And disaffection hid her head, Check'd by our Institution Peace was restored to this fair Isle, Secured by freedom's cheering smile, Thus Orangemen, from traitors vile, Preserved our Constitution.
To counteract by valour sound, All hostile plots that might abound, Brave Verner did most wisely found The Orange Institution. Erected on a basis sure, To keep us and our rights secure, And guard from foes of faith impure. The Crown and Constitution.
Come! Shake forth the banner! Let Northern winds fan her! She hath blazed over Erin three ages and more, Through danger we'll hold her, the fewer the bolder, As constant and true as our fathers before.
The bright Orange banner! The ensign of honour! It waves o'er the head of true Protestants still, Ho, Orangemen! Rally from the mountain and valley, Around the old flagstaff on liberty's hill.
Through the "broad stone of honor" that flagstaff is founded, Deep, deep, in the sure Rock of Ages below, It stood when rebellion's wild temper resounded, And shall stand, by God's grace, though again it should blow.
Then hoist the bright banner! The ensign of honour! Let Northen winds fan her! Up, up and away! To Papist and Faitour, to tyrant and traitor, Shake forth the old flag of defiance, hurrah!
It was when England's glorious sun in sixteen eighty-eight, Was overcast with treason's cloud, and Popery stood elate, That up arose her Protestants, the peasant and the peer, And vowed the chain of perjured James that they would not deign to wear, They sought them out a prudent chief to guide their ardent zeal, To lead them on that victory might bless their flashing steel, And who so fit to guide that host in all its bright array, As William, Prince of Orange, ere he landed at Torbay.
Then up arose the mighty chief and left his native shore, And rode upon the stormy waves our freedoms to restore, Upon his flag was blazon'd forth high fluttering o'er the main, That our Religion and our Laws he ever would maintain, 'Twas then in gallant style he stood upon the vessel's prow, With victory on his flashing sword and wisdom on his brow, And tens of thousands greeted him on upon his day, When our glorious Orange chief first landed at Torbay.
Come Brethren of the Orange bond, a bond ne'er to be riven, When e'er we give great William's name, a bumper must be given, For it you'd fire a feu-de-joie, to him who victory won, Come prime and load, and see you give a good charge to your gun, The eloquence of bumpers full, there's nothing can surpass, There's nought expresses kindred souls, like friendship's social glass, And thus we give our song and toast with three times three, huzza, The memory of King William and his landing at Torbay.
Wont you gather round me lads and listen to your dad, For now my life is but a dying ember, But bejoves before I go, I want you all to know, That Ulster is the land of No Surrender.
From the Battle of the Boyne, To the carnage of the Somme, We gave our enemies something to remember, So bejoves before I go, I want you all to know, That Ulster is the land of No Surrender.
Wont you gather round me girls and listen if you will, And tell your children always to remember, That your daddy taught you so, And grandad ought to know, That Ulster is the land of No Surrender.
From the Battle of the Boyne, To the carnage of the Somme, We gave our enemies something to remember, So bejoves before I go, I want you all to know, That Ulster is the land of No Surrender.
Wont you clasp my hand my dear, And my final words you'll hear, You've always been a friend, so kind and tender, Place your lips against my brow and hear my final vow, That Ulster is the land of No Surrender.
From the Battle of the Boyne, To the carnage of the Somme, We gave our enemies something to remember, So bejoves before I go, I want you all to know, That Ulster is the land of No Surrender.
A kingly host upon a stream, a monarch camped around Its southern upland far and wide their white pavilions crowned; Not long ago that sky unclouded showed, nor beneath the ray, That gentle stream in silver flowed to meet the new-born day.
Peals the loud gun-its thunders boom the echoing vales along While curtained in its sulfurous boom moves on the gallant thrown. And Foot and Horse in mingled mass, regardless all of life, With furious ardor onward pass to join the deadly strife.
Not strange that with such ardent flame each glowing heart beats high, Their battle-word was William's name and Death and Liberty! Then Ouldbridge, then they peaceful bowers with sounds unwonted rang, And Tredagh, mid thy distant towers, was heard the mighty clang.
The silver stream is crimsoned wide and clogged with many a corpse, As floating down its gentle tide co- mingled man and horse; Now fiercer grows the battle's rage, the guarded stream is crossed, And furious, hand-to-hand, engage each bold contending host.
He falls-the veteran hero falls, renowned along the Rhine- And he whose name, while Derry s walls endure shall brightly shine; Oh! would to heaven that churchman bold, his arms with triumph blest, The soldier spirit had controlled that fired his pious breast.
And he, the chief of yonder brave and persecuted band, Who foremost rushed amid the wave and gained the hostile strand, He bleeds, brave Caillemonte-he bleeds -tis closed, his bright career, Yet still that band to glorious deeds his dying accents cheer,
And now that well-contested strand successive columns gain, While backward James yielding band are borne across the plain; In vain the sword green Erin draws, and life away doth fling- Oh! worthy of a better cause and of a bolder king.
In vain thy bearing bold is shown upon that blood-stained ground; Thy towering hopes are overthrown, thy choicest fall around; Nor, shamed abandon thou the fray, nor blush though conquered there; A power against thee fights today no mortal arm may dare.
Hurrah! Hurrah! For Liberty, for her sword we draw, And dared the battle while on high our Orange banner flew. Woe worth the hour- worth the state, when men shall cease to join Wit grateful hearts to celebrate the glories of the Boyne!
When I was a young man I carried my pack And I lived the free life of the rover From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback I waltzed my Matilda all over Then in nineteen-fifteen my country said, Son It's time to stop rambling, there's work to be done So they gave me a bayonet and gave me a gun And they sent me away to the war
And the band played Waltzing Matilda As the ship pulled away from the quay Amidst all the cheers, the flag-waving and tears We sailed off to Gallipoli
And how well I remember that terrible day Our blood stained the sand and the water And how in that hell that they called Suvla Bay We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter Johnny Turk he was ready, he'd primed himself well He chased us with bullets and rained us with shell And in five minutes flat he'd blown us all to hell Nearly blew us right back to Australia
But the band played Waltzing Matilda As we stopped to bury our slain We buried ours, and the Turks buried theirs Then we started all over again
Now those that were left well we tried to survive In that mad world of blood, death and fire And for ten weary weeks I kept myself alive While around me the corpses piled higher Then a big Turkish shell knocked me arse over head And when I woke up in my hospital bed I saw what it had done and I wished I was dead Never knew there was worse things than dying
For I'll go no more waltzing Matilda All around the green bush far and near To hump tent and pegs a man needs both legs No more waltzing Matilda for me
So they collected the cripples, the wounded and maimed And they shipped us back home to Australia The legless, the armless, the blind, and insane Those proud wounded heroes of Suvla And as our ship pulled into Circular Quay I looked at the place where my legs used to be Thank Christ there was no one there waiting for me To grieve, to mourn and to pity
And the band played Waltzing Matilda As they carried us down the gangway But nobody cheered, they just stood and stared Then they turned all their faces away
And now every April I sit on my porch And I watch the parade pass before me I watch my old comrades, how proudly they march Renewing all dreams and past glories And the old men march slowly, all bent, stiff and sore The tired old men from a forgotten war And the young people ask, What are they marching for And I ask myself the same question
And the band plays Waltzing Matilda And the old men answer the call Year by year their numbers get fewer Some day no one will march there at all
Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me Now their ghosts can be heard As they pass by the billabong Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me
You Protestants of Ireland, Give ear to these lines I write down, Concerning these Aughalee heroes That marched through sweet Portadown.
It being on the 12th day of July, Our music so sweetly did play, And The Protestant Boys and Boyne Water Were the tunes we played going away.
Like the sons of King William we marched, Till at length Lurgan town we did view, Where the Church it was decorated With Orange, Purple, and Blue.
Round its spires our colours were flying; Small gun's like cannons did roar - Long life to these Aughalee heroes! For they are the boys we adore.
Captain Black, like a bold Orange hero, Came riding down on his grey steed, And he asked us what number we carried, And where did we mean to proceed.
We told him from the County of Antrim - Our number was six-thirty-two; We are the bold Aughalee heroes, That will soon make the rebels subdue.
We took off our hats to salute him, So boldy he bade us march on; And he rode like a hero before us, Till we came to the banks of the Bann.
And when we arrived safe in Aughalee, The brandy did flow like the Rhine - Long life to these Aughalee heroes, For they are the boys crossed the Boyne.
Let me tell you all the story, Of fame and gallantry, How the 'Prentice Boys of Derry, They went down in history, They were only thirteen Derry lads, And William was their man, And as King James laid Derry siege, From the Boys these orders ran.
Place King Williams Orange standard above the city walls, And close the gates of Derry cried the thirteen 'Prentice Boys, Till King Williams sword of freedom brings us victory one and all, We'll hold the gates of Derry cried the thirteen 'Prentice Boys.
So come lift your glasses rightly, And you'll raise a toast with me, To every loyal Ulsterman who has fought to keep her free, To those gallant thirteen Derry lads, And sacred memory, Come charge your glasses yet again, This chorus sing with me.
Place King Williams Orange standard above the city walls, And close the gates of Derry cried the thirteen 'Prentice Boys, Till King Williams sword of freedom brings us victory one and all, We will hold the gates of Derry cried the thirteen 'Prentice Boys. Yes we'll hold the gates of Derry cried the thirteen Apprentice Boy
Through cloud and mist that early morn, 1916 when they set off to the Somme, Only the laughter and the cheers, Who could notice all the doubts and tears of fear? But brave men all they sailed away, Though death lashed back from that battlefield, Yet through their soul their not afraid To fight with comrades of the 36th brigade.
What of the men who fought and died, And followed Ulster?s flag from Theipval wood with pride, And lift their heads and say with pride, I fought with Ulster men on Flanders field that day. Now written down in history, Tells of the sacrifice they made for liberty, And with their comrades they are laid All the men of the 36th brigade.
Lay down their lives for their king and country, The choice of freedom their reward for bravery, And they were told that all Ulster men would be Forever part of this land they fought to free And all these promises were made To the men of the 36th brigade.
And from the graveyard all the slain, They once again reach out and played with Ulster men, Don?t let these men have died in vain This land is British and this right you should maintain. So lift your glasses to the men who fought back then And to the men who will defend this land again And when all is said and done Heres to Ulster and the 36th brigade.
I return to my home and my heart turned to stone, As i visit where i spent my days, My people now as they walk behind their lines, Are attacked by the I.R.A, For they work from dawn and they're all british born, And proud to be Ulster through and through, And the land where they live it was not freely give, But was bought by the sweat of their brow.
Now the rebels from over the border they came, And they tell them this lans is not theirs to own, They say they must go but to where i don't know, For Ulster was always their home, They were shot and bombed but still carry on, Through their suffering's gone on for years, For their freedom was boght when their grandfathers fought, Long ago with the volunteers,
(And the land where they lived it was not freely given) (But was fought for by those brave volunteers)
I'm home to stay i will fight the I.R.A, With the ranks of Y.C.V, To make Ulster free from all tyranny, In the land where i was born, For the battle's not won till all Ulster's freedom's done, And her people they live no more in tears, But until that day we can only pray, And give thanks to those volunteers, But until that day we can only pray, And give thanks to those volunteers.
When the reward for loyal deeds in obloquy and scorn, And men in power treat us as slaves, who have been freemen born, When faith and freedom are assailed, for which true men would die, Two hundred thousand Orangemen must know the reason why.
Should justice to oppression yield, and self-defence be crime, And force deprive us of the rights blood-won in olden time, Should falsehood, fraud, and perjury be lifted up on high, Two hundred thousand Orangemen must know the reason why.
If Bills of Rights, and Statute Laws, are to be trampled down, And if the Pope should be allowed to share the British Crown, If glorious deeds and memories in dust and shame shall lie, Two hundred thousand Orangemen must know the reason why.
Oh! if the noble martyr's blood for us was shed in vain, And Rome her power in these free Isles, through traitors, should regain, If her black flag exultingly o'er freemen's heads shall fly, Two hundred thousand Orangemen must know the reason why.
If hearth, and home, and fatherland, be placed beneath the sway, Of that false, alien Church, whose joy has been to burn the slay, If justice, truth, and righteousness be banished for a lie, Two hundred thousand Orangemen must know the reason why.
If chains for freedom shall be forged, if Englands throne must fall. If any part of our loved Isles the Pope shall have in thrall, If we must wear the priestly yoke, with bent neck and sunken eye, Two hundred thousand Orangemen must the reason why.
If we must live mean-hearted slaves, or, as brave Briton's die, Let your bright banner once again wave in the azure sky. And "put your trust in God, my boys, and keep your powder dry" - Two hundred thousand Orangemen WILL know the reason why.
I still recall the moment, when my father went away, They locked him up in Long Kesh, For being Loyal so they say, I heard he was a hero, in the U.V.F it seems, They told me to be proud of him, to hold on to his dream, So I took the oath and joined them, The men in Sweeneys Team.
The years went by so quickly, and they set my father free, We'd hardly been together, when the Bastards got to me, I became a Loyalist Prisoner, as my father had before, I learned the price of freedom, at the slamming of the door , And my love for Ulster lived with me, even in these cells.
Say it loud, Say it Clear, I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer, Proud to be, a Y.C.V, And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.
My father came to see me, as often as he could, His knowledge was astounding, his advice was always good, Remember where you come from, keep your head held high, Be proud of your history, Ulsters flag must fly, And if you don't give up don't give in, you'll win the fight some day.
Say it loud, Say it Clear, I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer, Proud to be, a Y.C.V, And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.
I wasn't there that evening, when my father passed away, And though he hadn't spoken, I knew just what he'd say, Be true to your religion, Remember Queen and Crown, Always love your comrades, never let them down, Thats what he would have told me, in the living years.
Say it loud, Say it Clear, I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer, Proud to be, a Y.C.V, And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.
Say it loud, Say it Clear, I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer, Proud to be, a Y.C.V, And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.
Say it loud, Say it Clear, I'm a soldier, an Ulster Volunteer, Proud to be, a Y.C.V, And to serve with the men in Sweeneys team.
Proudly they guard this land from shore to shore, Bravley they stand for Ulster evermore, Secret thier deeds thier courage is the test, Of the Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.
They fought and they won the battle of the somme, For Blair and Dublin the fight has just begun, For God and for ULster is cast on every breath, Of the Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.
And some day soon we'll march proudly on parade, Shoulder to shoulder right up the Shankill Road, How proudly we'll cheer the heroes of the west, The Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.
For freedom we'll fight, we'll fight with all our might, The IRA, INLA will know whats wrong or right, For God and for Ulster who's cast on every breath, Of the Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.
And some day soon we'll march proudly on parade Shoulder to shoulder right up the Shankill Road How proudly we'll cheer the heroes of the west The Sweeney's number two Platoon of the U.V.F.
Oh well, we chased King James and all his gang up agianst those Derry's wall's, We chased the IRA up the Crumlin and the Falls, And we rallied round the Shankill with the voice of Ulsters cause, The heroes of the U.V.F.
Oh, Glory Glory, to the Red hand, Glory Glory to our whole Land, Oh, Glory Glory to that gallant band, The heroes of the U.V.F.
Now you've heard of Major Boyle, Lieutenant Joey Long and Corporal Jimmy McGregor, From the heart of Belfast town, And every Loyalist prisoner in the Crumlin and Long Kesh, The heroes of the U.V.F.
Oh, Glory Glory, to the Red hand, Glory Glory to our whole Land, Oh, Glory Glory to that gallant band, The heroes of the U.V.F.
From the richest to the poorest, the east and from the west, We'll fight for the cause of Ulster to we guard that grave, We'll blast our way through the IRA till theres no rebel left, The heroes of the U.V.F.
Oh, Glory Glory, to the Red hand, Glory Glory to our whole Land, Oh, Glory Glory to that gallant band, The heroes of the U.V.F.
Oh, Glory Glory, to the Red hand, Glory Glory to our whole Land, Oh, Glory Glory to that gallant band, The heroes of the U.V.F.
Now come listen to my words, verse or two I'll say, In memory of these men, who fight for us today, Across the streets of Ulster, the faithful and the few, But the bravest of them all are the men in number two.
If Ulster had been traitors, when Britain went to war, We,d be much better thought of, much better than we are, Sinn Fein they are applauded for the deeds that they will do, But there's no applause from Britain, for the men of number two.
So come and stand in memory, for those who fought and died, Who gave their lives for Ulster, come remember them with pride, Come and stand in memory, together me and you, With Frenchie and with Herbie, and the men in number two.
We'll stand firm here in Ulster, for upon some future day, She may rue this great betrayal. and perhaps it is to late, And once again have cause to call upon the chosen few, The Ulster Volunteers, and the men in number two.
So come and stand in memory for those who fought and died, Who gave their lives for Ulster, come remember them with pride, Come and stand in memory, together me and you, With Frenchie and with Herbie, and the men in number two.
Proudly they guard this land from shore to shore Bravley they stand for Ulster evermore Secret in deeds courage is the test Of the suicide battalion of the U.V.F
They fought and they won the battle of the some But for Blair and Dublin the fight will still go on For God and for ULster is cast on every breath Of the suicide battalion of the U.V.F
And some day soon they'll go proudly on parade Shoulder to shoulder right up the Shankill Road Loudly we'll cheer the heroes of the west The suicide battalion of the U.V.F
There is a spirit in every heart we know That helps to guide us in our fight against the foes And through the years has erased our fears Stands now as a tribute to the memories of our fallen Volunteers
Feel the wind of change through the land Feel the spirit of the Red Hand And in this cold dark night, keep it shining bright Carry it like a flame in your heart Carry it like a flame in your heart
And through it's history our people They have fought to maintain this Union While others they have sought To have a say, or take away The spirit that remains within The heart of every Ulsterman Today
Feel the wind of change through the land Feel the spirit of the Red Hand And in this cold dark night, keep it shining bright Carry it like a flame in your heart Carry it like a flame in your heart
I had a friend called Trevor King a lot of people new his name, And a friend to all was he, A volunteer right from the start, He fought for Ulster with all his heart, Just to keep his province free, I wont forget the day that he died, I wont forget the look in his eye, Or these words that he said to me.
All gave some, Some gave all, Some came through for the red white and blue, Some had to fall, So if you ever think of me, Think of all your liberties, and recall, That some gave all.
Trevor King is no longer hee, but his words ring oh so clear, And they travel, across our land, For his friends he gave his all, stood his ground and took the fall Just to help his fellow man, So love your country and live it proud, And dont forget all those men who died, My people can you see.
All gave some, Some gave all, Some came through for the red white and blue, Some had to fall, So if you ever think of me, Think of all your liberties, and recall, That some gave all.
In a station in the city a British soldier stood Talking to the people there if the people would Some just stared in hatred, and others turned in pain And the lonely British soldier wished he was back home again
Come join the British Army! said the posters in his town See the world and have your fun come serve before the Crown The jobs were hard to come by and he could not face the dole So he took his country's shilling and enlisted on the roll
For there was no fear of fighting, the Empire long was lost Just ten years in the army getting paid for being bossed Then leave a man experienced a man who's made the grade A medal and a pension some mem'ries and a trade
Then came the call to Ireland as the call had come before Another bloody chapter in an endless civil war The priests they stood on both sides the priests they stood behind Another fight in Jesus' name the blind against the blind
The soldier stood between them, between the whistling stones And then the broken bottles that led to broken bones The petrol bombs that burnt his hands the nails that pierced his skin And wished that he had stayed at home surrounded by his kin
The station filled with people the soldier soon was bored But better in the station than where the people warred The room filled up with mothers with daughters and with sons Who stared with itchy fingers at the soldier and his guns
A yell of fear a screech of brakes the shattering of glass The window of the station broke to let the package pass A scream came from the mothers as they ran towards the door Dragging children crying from the bomb upon the floor
The soldier stood and could not move his gun he could not use He knew the bomb had seconds and not minutes on the fuse He could not run to pick it up and throw it in the street There were far too many people there too many running feet
Take cover! yelled the soldier, Take cover for your lives And the Irishmen threw down their young and stood before their wives They turned towards the soldier their eyes alive with fear For God's sake save our children or they'll end their short lives here
The soldier moved towards the bomb his stomach like a stone Why was this his battle God why was he alone He lay down on the package and he murmured one farewell To those at home in England to those he loved so well
He saw the sights of summer felt the wind upon his brow The young girls in the city parks how precious were they now The soaring of the swallow the beauty of the swan The music of the turning earth so soon would it be gone
A muffled soft explosion and the room began to quake The soldier blown across the floor his blood a crimson lake They never heard him cry or shout, they never heard him moan And they turned their children's faces from the blood and from the bones
The crowd outside soon gathered and the ambulances came To carry off the body of a pawn lost in the game And the crowd they clapped and cheered and they sang their rebel songs One soldier less to interfere where he did not belong
And will the children growing up learn at their mothers' knees The story of the soldier who bought their liberty Who used his youthful body as a means towards an end Who gave his life to those who called him murderer not friend
Full many a long wild winter's night And sultry summer's day Are past and gone since James took flight From Derry Walls away. Cold are the hands that closed that gate Against the wily foe But here to Time's remotest date, Their spirit still shall glow.
So here's a health to all good men, Now fearless friends are few. But when we close our gates against We'll then be all True Blue. Lord Antrim's men came down yon glen With drums and trumpets gay Our 'Prentice Boys just heard the noise And then prepared for play.
While some opposed, the gates they closed, And joining hand-in-hand Before the wall resolved to fall Or for their freedom stand, When honour calls to Derry Walls, The noble and the brave, Oh! He that in the battle falls Must find a hero's grave.
Then came the hot and doubtful fray, With many a mortal wound; While thousands in wild war's array, Stood marshaled all around. Each hill and plain was strewed with slain The Foyle ran red with blood; But all was vain the town to gain Here William's standard stood.
Renowned are they who face their foes As men and heros should; But let the slave steal to his grave Who fears to shed his blood, The matchless deeds of those who here Defied the tyrant 's frown On historys bright rolls appear Emblazoned in renown.
Here deathless Walker's faithful word Sent hosts against the foe And gallant Murray's bloody sword The Gallic chief laid low, We honor those heroic dead, Their glorious memory; May we, who stand here in their stead As wise and valliant be!
Oh! Sure a heart of stone would melt, The scenes once here to see: And witness all our fathers felt, To make their country free They saw the lovely matron's cheek With want and terror pale They heard the child's expiring shriek, Float on the passing gale!
Yet here they stood in field of blood, As battle raged around Resolved to die till victory Their purple standard crowned. The sacred rights these heroes gained In many a hard fought day Shall they by us be still maintained Or basely cast away?
Shall rebels vile rule o'er our isle, And call it all their own? Oh, surely no! The faithless foe Must bend before the throne Then here's a health to all good men, To all good men and true; And when we close our gates again, We'll then be all True Blue.
This stories famous to all Ireland, if you listen i'll tell you it all, Of the brave men who brought the Clyde Valley to Larne, In answer to Lord Carson's call, They landed more rifles, those gunrunning lads, At Bangor and Donaghadee, Their cause it was true, for me and for you, In their fight to keep Ulster free.
Proudly they laughed and they cheered as they gathered, Waiting for rifles to fight for their cause, They knew their fight was a flight with Ulster's blessing, They never flinched though they marched straight into the war.
They came up from Cavan and County Tyrone, Fermanagh and Monaghan too, And from Donegal, they heard Carson's call, From Antrim staunch hearts proud and true, From Down Armagh, Londonderry as well, United they all gathered there, For they were determined, that they would stay free, Or die for their Ulster so fair.
Proudly they laughed and they cheered as they gathered, Waiting for rifles to fight for their cause, They knew their fight was a flight with Ulster's blessing, They never flinched though they marched straight into the war.
Proudly they laughed and they cheered as they gathered, Waiting for rifles to fight for their cause, They knew their fight was a flight with Ulster's blessing, They never flinched though they marched straight into the war.
I have been a wanderer all my life, I'll roam this time no more But now I'm sailing back again, back to old Ulster's shores To settle down in Belfast town in a place that you all know Sure it fills my heart with gladness when I think of Sandy Row.
When I recall my childhood days, a tear comes to my eye I think of all the brethren on the 12th day of July For the music of the bands that day, it sets my heart a glow As we marched along together down the streets of Sandy Row.
Now whenever I have settled down, I never more will roam Away from dear old Ulster, for it is my home sweet home I'll get myself a little house, my children there will grow With all my loyal brethren in the streets of Sandy Row.
And now my song is finished and my head I will lay down I am proud that I am loyal to the Red Hand and the Crown The people that will meet me now, for off this ship I go Will be the people that I love, who live in Sandy Row
Drink to the memory of the brave, the fearless and the few, Some lie far of beneath the waves, some sleep in Ulster too, Though all are gone their fame lives on, the names of those who died, And proud and true these men like you remember them with pride.
So come listen to my story now of a brave young Ulster man, Whose life was cruelly taken by a rebel's murdering hand, He's a man that we will remember, and a friend for evermore, In memory of a volunteer one Robert "Squeak" Seymore.
Let those of you who tremble, let those of you who fear, The avenging hand of Ulster, it will find you far or near, And one night while you are sleeping, the hand upon the door, Will be the hand of an Ulster volunteer, one Robert "Squeak" Seymore.
You may think my story finished now, you may think my story told, And the man that i have spoke of, he lies in the ground so cold, But no he is always with us, he is here with us today, For the truth is Robert Seymore he will never fade away.
Let us pledge not to forget him and remember evermore, That here, Here Lies a Soldier, One Robert "Squeak" Seymore.
Mon Nov 01, 2010 2:56 pm
