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HYLAND'S MAMMOTH |
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IRELAND WILL YET BE FREE.
Let tyrants exult, and their mandates proclaim,
Their sceptres with iron hands sway; Oppression the Irish heart never can tame.
Nor drive hope of freedom away. The yoke may be heavy and firm in its place,
The fetters secure all may be; But blood will wash out this most shameful disgrace,
And Ireland ere long shall be free. The day may be distant—perhaps it is near,
When freedom shall dawn on our land, When Ireland no longer a tyrant need fear,
Her rights she will seek and demand. Her fields, now deserted, shall blossom once more.
Her ships will skim over the sea; The hirelings of England be hurled from our shore,
And Ireland will truly be free. Then toast our fair Island, my countrymen all,
"Success to her struggle so nigh;" Her sons will spring forth at the first trumpet call,
And battle for freedom, or die! Then when we have conquered and peace smiles again,
Let this our grand toast ever be; "Confusion to tyrants, wherever they reign,"
And Ireland shall ever be free! |
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IRISH HEARTS FOR THE LADIES.
One day Madam Nature was busy,
Bright Venus beside her was seated, She looked till her head was quite dizzy,
She long'd till the Job was completed; I'm making a heart, cried the goddess,
For love and its joys all my trade is, Not a heart for a stays or a bodice,
But an Irishman's heart tor the ladies.
She bound it all round with good nature;
'Twas tender and soft as the dove, sir; 'Twas sprinkled with drops of the creature;
'Twas stuffed, too, with large lumps of love, sir. 'Twas pure as the stream of the Shannon,
As warm, too, as roasted potatoes, And just like a ball from a cannon
Is an Irishman's heart for the ladles.
Then speak, ye deluders, so pretty,
Your own silver tongues tell the story, That Irishmen melt you to pity,
For they are the boys that adore ye; In love and in war we're so frisky,
Nor of French, Dutch, or Yankee, afraid Is; We've lips for our girls and our whiskey,
And tight Irish hearts for the ladies. |
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OUR MOTHERLAND.
There is an island In the sea, '
'Tls Motherland—our Motherland; Land of the brave, though not yet free,
'Tls Motherland—our Motherland; And by our knighthood, now we swear. It shall not long its bondage bear, Tot we are bound the cords to tear From Motherland—dear Motherland!
With heart and hand in Erin's cause, Motherland—our Motherland,
We'll trample down the tyrant's laws In Motherland—our Motherland; |
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