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HYLAND'S MAMMOTH |
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And long may last the friendship last.
Which binds us all together; While we agree our foes shall flee
Like clouds In stormy weather.
Remember still, through good and ill.
How vain were prayers and tears— How vain were words, till flashed the swords
Of the Irish Volunteers. By arms we've got the right we sought.
Through long and wretched years— Hurrah! 'tis done, our freedom's won—
Hurrah for the Volunteers! |
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PADDY'S ISLAND OF GREEN.
Ah, pooh, botheration, dear Ireland's the nation
Which all other nations together excels; Where worth, hospitality, conviviality.
Friendship, and open sincerity dwells. Sure I've roamed the world over, from Dublin to Dover,
But, in all the strange countries wherever I've been, I ne'er saw an island, on sea or on dry land.
Like Paddy's own sweet little Island of green.
In England, your roses make beautiful posies;
Provoke Scotia's thistle, you'll meet your reward; But sure, for its beauty, an Irishman's duty
Will teach him his own native plant to regard: Saint Patrick first set it, with tear-drops he wet it,
And often to cherish and bless it was seen; Its virtues are rare, too—it's fresh and it's fair, too—
And flowers but in Paddy's own Island of green.
Oh, long life to old Ireland, its bogs and its moorland,
For there's not such a universe under the sun For honor, for spirit, fidelity, merit,
For wit and good fellowship, frolic and fun! With wine and with whiskey, when once it gets frisky
An Irishman's heart in true colors is seen, With mirth overflowing, with love it is glowing—
With love for its own native island of green. |
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PADDY'S LAND.
Come, all ye boys of Paddy's land, who are inclined to roam, To reap the English harvest so far away from home, Be sure you're well provided with comrades bold and true, For you have to fight both day and night 'gainst John Bull and his crew. Chorus.—Then hurrah, my boys, for Paddy's land, 'Tis the land I do adore, May heaven smile on every child That loves that shamrock shore. When we left home for Dublin, the morning it being clear, And when we got on board the boat, we gave three hearty cheers, Saying: Good-bye, my boys, to that dear old land, we ne'er may see it more, For we're going to fight, both day and night, all for that shamrock shore.
Then hurrah, my boys, &c. We sailed away from Dublin Quay, and ne'er received a shock, Until we landed in New York 'longside of the dock, ■
Where thousands of our countrymen they were all in that town, And "Faugh a ballagh!" (clear the track) were the words that passed all round.
Then hurrah, my boys, &c. Then away we went, in merriment, to drink bourbon and wine, Each lad he gave his favorite toast for the girl he left behind; We sat and sang, made the ale-house ring, despising Erin's foes, Or any mau that bates the land where St. Patrick's shamrock grown.
Then hurrah, my boys, &c. |
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