Songs and Poems

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The Siege of Drumcree 1995

It was a quiet Sunday
As brethren left prayer;
But one thousand RUC men
Were waiting for them there.

Freddie Hall, he had the choice
That day in Portadown
He told his men, go to Drumcree
And face the Orange down.

They won't protest to us he said
We've done this all before,
What Freddie didn't realise
The Prods could take no more.

Harold Gracey said "We're,here
And here we're going to stay,
We have the legal right to walk
Down any Queen's highway.

So go back to Garvaghy
And clear the road for us,
We'll walk with pride and dignity
And we won't make a fuss.

But police put on their riot gear
Preparing for a fight,
And the siege of Drumcree churchyard
Began that Sunday night.

They came from every county
As word was passed around,
The countryside a sea of orange,
Prepared to stand their ground.

The support for loyal Portadown
It really was immense,
Food and drink came pouring in
Some even pitched their tents.

As the siege approached its second night
The police chiefs they all knew
The only way to keep the peace,
Was let the parade pass through.

So on the Tuesday morning
The ll th of July,
The orange walked Garvaghy Road,
With heads and colours high.

No more calls for compromise
Or trying to appease,
The Protestants of Ulster
Have got up off their knees.

"While the Orange Lilies Grow"

0 Thou, who nerved our fathers in days of old.
Grant we, their children, in heart may not grow cold
To fight with courage in this northern land
For what they fought, our own dear native land.
Shall we yield the walls of Derry or Enniskillen's plain,
Where the ashes of our fathers in peaceful sleep remain?
Loud rings the voice of Ulster as she answers proudly: No;
What our fathers won we'll hold, while the Orange Lilies grow!

That their ideals, for which they bravely drew the sword,
May still be ours to keep, we will with courage guard;
For we've done all that men can do to placate our ancient foe.
With every' claim we render their demands the greater grow.
We have our last concession given, the last inch which we will yield
Ere we spring to arms to defend our cause; may Heaven be our shield.
For we've decided, come what may, through happiness or woe,
What our fathers won we'll hold, while the Orange Lilies grow.

How my heart does thrill with joy, ever since I first have seen
All the fertile plains of Ulster, her hills and valleys green.
And what rapture fills my soul when praises meet are paid
To the manhood of her sons and the beauty of her maids.
0, proud I am of this fair land, the land where I was born;
Where liberty is held most dear, and deceit is held in scorn.
Still a greater pride, a greater joy is mine, because I know
What our fathers won we'll hold, while the Orange Lilies grow.

What are You?

Are you a loyal Orangeman and worthy of the name
Of William Prince of Orange, immortal honoured fame?
What is your daily practice, which is the part you play?
Do you respond to duties' call and tread the narrow way?

Was it through love and loyalty that you a stranger came
To cross the rugged mountains in search of Jordan's plain?
Where the waters stood divided and the chosen found a way
Was it to aid such principles you joined the grand array?

Was it for sake of earthly gain you joined the glorious throng
Of William Prince of Orange who conquered at the Boyne?
Do you accept the righteous robe that made all nations free
And care not for the principles that gained such liberty?

Do you uphold the principles for which our fathers died,
Or when the enemy is in view are you the one to hide?
Have you attained the golden steps, Faith, Hope, and Charity,
Or do you stand at Rome's command to lap and bend the knee?

These are simple questions, to each your answer give
The world will prove it's value by the life you try to live
If you're a would-be Orangeman then choose some other sect,
But if a worthy Orangeman you're one of the Elect.

The Hills of Tandragee

0 listen a while my countrymen and hear my latest news
Although my song is sorrowful I hope you'll me excuse
I left my peaceful residence a foreign land to see
I said goodbye to Ballylisk likewise to Tandragee.

Brave stalwart men around me stood, each comrade kind and true,
And as I clasped each well known hand, to bid my last adieu,
I says my fellow countrymen, I hope you'll soon be free
And raise the Orange Flag proudly o'er the Hills of Tandragee.

No more among the Sycamore I'll hear the blackbird sing
No more to me the brown Cuckoo will welcome back the Spring
No more I'll see your fertile fields and weeping willow tree
Nor raise the Orange Flag proudly o'er the Hills of Tandragee.

God bless you dear old County Armagh my own dear native land
In dreams I often see your hills and lovely orchards grand
And though three thousand miles do lie between yon hills and me,
You'll raise the Orange Flag proudly o'er the Hills of Tandragee.

May peace and plenty reign supreme upon Lough Erne's shore
May discord five forever in Ulster's homes no more
And may the time soon come around when 1 return to thee
To raise the Orange Flag proudly o'er the Hills of Tandragee.



Junior Orange Marching Song

We are Marching, Marching on
In the cause we love so dear,
For we are junior orangemen,
We want you all to hear.

Chorus
Marching, Marching
In this our native land,
For God, our Queen and Commonwealth
We proudly take our stand.

We are Marching, Marching on
In the Faith, Hope, Truth and Love.
We gladly serve our fellow man
With strength from God above.
Chorus

We are Marching, Marching on
In the ranks of  J.O.A.
Our colour, Orange, so beautiful
With courage we display.
Chorus

We are Marching, Marching on.
This is the Prayer we say:
"God Bless the Junior Orange Lodge
In every land today.

The Sash

Fot it's here I am an Orangeman, just come across the sea
For singing and for dancing, I hope that I'll please thee,
I can sing and dance with any man, as I did in days of yore.
And its on the twelfth I long to wear the Sash My Father wore.

Chorus
It is old but it is beautiful and It's colours they are fine.
It was worn at Derry, Aughrim, Enniskillen and the Boyne.
My Father wore it as a youth in bygone days of yore
And its on the twelfth I long to wear, The Sash my Father Wore.

For it's now I'm going to leave you, good luck to you I'll say,
And when I'm on the ocean deep, I hope for me you'll pray
I'm going to my native land, to a place they call Dromore,
Where on the twelfth I long to wear the Sash my Father Wore.
Chorus

Whenever I come back again my brethren here to see ,
I hope to find old Orange style, they will always welcome me.
My favourite tune's 'Boyne Water', but to please me more and more,
And make my Orange Heart full glad with the Sash my Father wore.
Chorus

Derry's Walls

The time has scarce gone by boys, two hundred years ago,
When Rebels on old Derry's Walls their faces dare not show;
When James and all his rebel band came up to Bishops Gate;
With heart and hand and sword and sheild we caused them to retreat;

Chorus
Then work and don't surrender but come when duty calls,
With heart and hand, and sword and shield - we'll guard old Derry's Walls.

The blood it did flow in the streams for many a winter's night,
They knew the Lord was on their side, to help them in the fight;
They only stood upon the walls determined for to fight,
To fight and gain the victory and hoist the Crimson high;
Chorus

At last, at last with one broadside the heavens sent their maze,
The boom was broke that crosses Foyle's shores and James he was dismayed;
The Banner, boys that floated, was run aloft with joy,
God bless the hands that broke the boom and saved Apprentice Boys.
Chorus

The Ould Orange Flute

In the Country Tyrone, near the town of Dungannn,
Where many a ruction myself had a hand in,
Bob Williamson lived - a weaver by trade,
And all of us thought him a stought Orange blade.
On the twelfth of July as it yearly did come,
Bob played on the flute to the sound of a drum.
You may talk of your harp, your piano, or lute,
But nothing could sound like the ould Orange flute.

But this treacherous scoundrel took us all in,
For he married a Papish called Bridget McGinn,
And turned Papish himself, and forsook the ould cause,
That gave us our freedom, religion, and laws.
Now the boys in the townland made some noise upon it,
And Bob had to fly to the province of Connaught;
He fled with his wife and fixings to boot,
Along with the others, the ould Orange flute.

At the Chapel on Sundays to atone for past deeds,
He said Pater and Aves and counted his beads,
Till after some time at the Priests' own desire,
He went with his ould flute to play in the choir;
He went with his ould flute to play in the mass,
But the instrumet shivered and sighed, Oh alas !
When he blew it and fingered and made a great noise,
The flute would play only "The Protestant Boys".

Bob jumped and he started and got into a splutter,
And threw his ould flute in the blessed holy water;
He thought that this charm would bring some other sound,
But when he blew it again it played "Croppies lie down".
And all he could whistle and finger and blow,
To play Papish music he found it no go.
"Kick the Pope","The Boyne Water," and such like it would sound,
But one papish squeak in it couldn't be found.

At a council of priests that was held the next day,
They decided to banish the ould flute away,
For they couldn't knock heresy out of its head.
So they bought Bob another to play in its stead.
So the ould flute was doomed and its fate was pathetic,
It was fastened and burned at the stake as a heretic;
While the flames roared around it they heard a strange noise,
'Twas the ould flute still whistling "The Protestant Boys".

Loughgall

Have you ever been an Orangeman on the Twelfth day of July.
Have you stood and watched the brethren as proudly they marched by,
Have you heard your Masters orders, have you heard your Chaplain call,
Put on your Orange Sashes boys we're leaving for Loughgall.

It is a lovely village the finest ever seen,
Surrounded by sweet countryside and fields of grasses green,
Our Orange Banners floating outshine the rebels all,
As we proudly march in memory to the village of Loughgall

We numbered twenty thousand as proudly we march down,
The streets we knew from childhood the streets of Portadown,
We have walked them all from childhood but now we do recall,
This glorious twelfth when we all march to the village of Loughgall.

You have heard of old Dan Winter some 100 years ago,
He formed our lovely order and proudly watched it grow,
He said we'll stand for Ulster we'll stand or else we'll fall,
We'll shout out "No Surrender" when we're marching through Loughgall

But he is dead and gone now and I hope in Heaven above,
Up with his great Grand Master in that great land of love,
But I know that on this glorious twelfth he will surely see us all,
As we proudly march in memory to the village of Loughgall.

I know that far across the sea in a land that's fair and bright,
Our lovely Queen is watching, for she loves this glorious sight,
She even sent a Telegram God speed unto you all,
You Protestants of Ulster as you're marching through Loughgall.

We are the Billy Boys

Chorus
Hurra! Hurra! We are the Billy Boys;
Hurra! Hurra! We make a lot of noise;
We're up to here, we never fear - we all are Billy's sons,
We are the Glasgow Billy Boys.

We belog to Glasgow we're Orange and we're true
Scotland is our countr-ee our colours white and blue
We're Protestants and proud of it we're known near and far
Glasgow Billy Boys they call us.
Chorus

On the 12th day of July you'll find us in the walk
With our brother Orangemen, Sandy, Bill and Jock
Billy is our hero, he beat them at the Boyne
Glasgow Billy boys they call us.
Chorus

We believe in Freedom, we won our right that day
At the Battle of the Boyne - we're very proud to say.
James he was defeated - Justice had been done
Raise now a glass to King William.
Chorus

The Old Orange Tree

When William came to England, the King of it to be,
He brought a plant along with him of the Old Orange Tree;
He planted it near London, so pleasant 'twas to see,
When a few branches there sprung up and frighten'd Popery.

Chorus
So let us join both heart and hand, and lovingly agree;
For we're the loyal branches of the Old Orange Tree.

'Twas on the walls of Derry, where the Orangemen did parade,
To fight King James and all his men, they never were afraid;
And with the sons of Popery they never more will join -
We beat them back from Drogheda - from Drogheda - and the Boyne.
Chorus

When William went to Ireland, the Protestants to join,
He took the plant along with him, and placed it in the Boyne;
And with his troops, courageously, he fought them one, two, three -
King James and his men were sore afraid when the saw the Orange Tree.
Chorus

The seed of this old Orange tree got scatter'd up and down,
Till a few branches there sprung up, enough to rule a town;
It grew in summer season - Oh! pleasant 'twas to see -
The Winter season it came on and cropp'd our Orange tree.
Chorus

The winter season it is o'er, the weather's fine and clear -
Our Orange Tree will flourish in the spring-time of the year;
Our Orange Tree will flourish, for the root is yet alive,
For where there is one branch dropp'd off, we have engrafted five.
Chorus

Now to conclude and make an end, and finish up my song -
Here's health and peace, long life and rest to all true Orangemen;
And let us live in unity, and evermore agree,
And on the twelfth day of July see fruit upon our tree.
Chorus

The Orangeman

When lodges meet our brethren greet the Master in the chair;
All hand in hand, in order stand, and bow their heads in prayer.
In duty next the Bible text our Chaplain doth supply,
To the love of King and Brotherhood, To the fear of God on high.

Chorus
To God above we give the praise, With heart and hand we join,
To celegrate the glorious days of Derry and the Boyne.

No treason binds our honest minds, No rancour moves our arm;
We weave no rope for Priest nor Pope,We aim at no man's harm.
We fain would give to all who live a freeman's heart and home;
We fain would see from slavery benighted sons of Rome.
Chorus

We ponder on our brethren gone to dwell with God on high;
We speak of those our country's foes; of perils great and nigh.
For King we band for Fatherland we raise our boven cry,
For freedom's right we're bold to fight to conquer or to die.
Chorus

Who wouldn't stand for England's land, The valiant and the true ?
With fife and drum we boldly come: The Orange and the Blue.
And may each gallant Orangeman be as he's ever been -
The traitor's foe, the good man's friend, and loyal to his King.
Chorus

The Orange ABC

A song I am going to sing to you,
If you but listen unto me -
There is nothing curious in it, boys,
And that you will plainly see.
It is all about six verses
Of our Orange A,B,C.

Chorus
Then it is judge for yourselves, boys,
And listen unto me-
We will turn the leaf once more, my boys,
And sing our Orange A,B,C.

A stands for Aughrim, where blood flowed on the plains, and
B is for Boyne Water, there bones do still remain;
C stands for Culmore, where crossing it did fall, and
D I am sure you all know well's our Maiden Derry Walls.

E is for Enniskillen, where nobly they did join, and
F is for these fathers who conquered at the Boyne;
G is for that great General that fought at our right hand,
H is for Hanover, from that land King William came.

I is for the Israelites that crossed over Jordan's streams, and
J stands for Joshua, our guide he still remains;
K for Knox, Scotch Reformer, who for the truth did stand,
L stands for Luther, his doctrines we'll commend.

M stands for Moses, as he viewed the land,
N stands for Noah, who built the ark at God's command;
O stands for Orange, a colour you all have worn, and
P is purple, with which the ark was borne.

Q is for the Question you are asked at the door;
R is for the Road, my boys, some of you have trod before;
S is for the Secret you're sure there to find, and
T is for the Travels you will always bear in mind.

U stands for Unity, in which we all should join
V is for the great Victory we gained at the Boyne;
W stands for William, our famous commodore; and
X is my last letter, and you can ask for nothing more.

Orange Standard

Unfurl the Orange Standard, men the foe are in the field;
To arms, ye warriors once again make heartless Rebels yeild,
Shoot down the foe with musket-balls, give chase with flashing blades;
Arm! Arm! Your country loudly calls for Protestant Brigades.

Unfurl the Standard of the Blue, the Green is waving now,
Flock to our ranks ye brave and true and brethe your battle vow;
For alters, homes and truth to fight if need be for to die;
So do not sheath your swords to-night, give forth our battle cry.

Yes let the Orange and the Blue fly proudly out again;
Before the anxious, longing view of all true hearted men.
Yes let it wave high in the skies for Orangemen to see;
Let's gain Religious Liberty and make our country free.

The Green Grassy Slopes of the Boyne

Some folk sing of the Mountains and Valleys,
Where the wild flowers abundantly grow
And some of the foam crested billows
That surge in the waters below;
But I'm going to sing of a river
And I hope in the chorus you'll join,
Of the deeds that were done by King William,
On the green grassy slopes of the Boyne.

Onthe banks of that beautiful river
Where the bones of our forefathers lie,
Awaiting the sound of the trumpet
That call them to glory on high;
In our hearts we will cherish their memories
And in one common brotherhood join
and praise God who sent us Knig William,
To the green grassy slopes of the Boyne.

And if ever we're called to the service
And i know like true brethren you'll join
and fight like our fathers before us
On the green grassy slopes of the Boyne.
Orangemen remember King William
And you fathers who with him did join
And fought for our glorious deliverance
On the green grassy slopes of the Boyne.

Orange Maid Of Sligo

On Ben Bulben's green and lofty height
The evening sun was a setting bright
It gave a ray of a golden light
Around the Bay of Sligo

A tiny craft with glancing oars
And spreading sails, the wind before
It blew the tiny craft ashore
To this, the Bay of Sligo

And at the bow there sat a girl
With lovely cheeks and flaxen curl
Her tender beauty was like a pearl
T'was the Orange maid of Sligo

And glancing o'er the vessel's side
She saw upon the water's glide
An orange lily's golden pride
Upon the Bay of Sligo

"Make haste, make haste and save that flower
I prize it more than any other
No traitor shall have it within his power
Around the Bay of Sligo"

An Orange youth then made a vow,
Brought back that flower and with a bow
Bestowed it on the lovely brow
Of the orange maid of Sligo

She soon became his lovely bride
And oft they thought at even tide
Upon that lily's golden pride
Around the Bay of Sligo

Come all true blues and fill your glass
A better toast will never pass
We'll drink unto that lovely lass
The Orange Maid of Sligo

THE PROTESTANT BOYS

The Protestant Boys are loyal and true
Stout hearted in battle and stout-handed too
The Protestant Boys are true to the last
And faithful and peaceful when danger has passed
And Oh! they bear
And proudly wear
The colours that floated o'er many a fray
Where cannons were flashing
And sabres were clashing
The Protestant Boys still carried the day

When James half a bigot, and more of a knave
With masses and Frenchmen the land would enslave
The Protestant Boys for liberty drew
And showed with the Orange the banner of Blue
And Derry well
Their might can tell
Who first in their ranks did the Orange display
The Boyne had no shyers
And Aughrim no flyers
And Protestant Boys still carried the day

When treason was rampant and traitors were strong
And law was defied by a vile rebel throng
When thousands were banded the throne to cast down
The Protestants rallied and stood by the Crown
And oft in fight
By day and night
They countered the rebels in many a fray
Where red pikes were bristling
And bullets were whistling
The Protestant Boys still carried the day

And still does the fame of their glory remain
Unclouded by age and undimmed by a stain
And ever and ever their cause well uphold
The cause of the true and the trusted and bold
And scorn to yield
Or quit the field
While ovber our heads the old colors shall play
And traitors shall tremble
When' er we assemble
For Protestant Boys shall carry the day

The Protestant Boys are loyal and true
Though fashions are changed and the loyal are few
The Protestant Boys are true to the last
Though cowards belie them when danger has past
Aye still we stand
A loyal band
And reck not the liars whatever they say
For let the drums rattle
The summons to battle
The Protestant Boys must carry the day

THE HOUSE OF ORANGE
(Stan Rogers)

I took back my hand and I showed him the door
No dollar of mine would I part with this day
For fuelling the engine of a bloody cruel war
In my forefathers' home far away

Who fled the first Famine wearing all that they owned
Were called Navigators, all ragged and torn
And built the Grand Trunk here and found a new home
Wherever their children were born

Their sons have no politics, none can recall
Allegiance from long generations before
Oh, this war or that name can't matter at all
Or be cause enough for to war

And meanwhile my babies lie safe in their homes
Unlike their Pale cousins who cower and cry
While kneecappers nail their poor Dads to the floor
And teach them to hate and to die

It's those cruel beggars who spurn the fair coin
The Peace for their kids they could take at their will
Since the day old King Billy prevailed at the Boyne
They've bombed and they've maimed and they've killed

Now they cry out for money and wail at the door
But Home Rule or Republic, 'tis all of it shame
And a curse for us here who want nothing of war
We're kindred in nothing but name

All rights and all wrongs have long since blown away
For causes are ashes where children lie slain
Yet the damned UDL and the cruel IRA
Will tomorrow go murdering again

But no penny of mine will I add to the fray
"Remember The Boyne" they will cry out in vain
For I've given my heart to the place I was born
And forgiven the whole House of Orange,
King Billy and the whole House of Orange.

LISNAGADE

Ye Protestants of Ulster, I prey you join with me.
Your voices raise in lofty praise and show your loyalty,
Extol the day we marched away with Orange flags so fine,
In order to commemorate the conquest of the Boyne.

The first who fought upon that day, the Prince of Orange was
He headed our forefathers in his most glorious cause,
Protestant rights for to maintain and popery to degrade
And in memory of the same we fought at Lisnagade.

'Twas early in the morning, before the rise of sun,
An information we received, our foes each with a gun,
In ambush lay, near the highway, entrenched in a fort
For to disgrace our Oraage flag, but it chanced they broke their oath.

We bad not marched a mile or so when the white flag we espied
With a branch of podereens on which they much relied;
And this inscription undeneath: "Hail Mary! unto thee
Deliver us from these Orange dogs, and then we will be free."

At half an hour past two o'clock the firing did commence
With clouds of smoke and showers of ball the heaven was condensed
They called unto their wooden gods to whom they used to pray,
But my Lady Mary fell asleep, and so they ran away.

PORTADOWN

In sixteen hundred and forty one those Fenians formed a plan
To massacre us Protestants down by the River Bann
To massacre us Protestants and not to spare a man
But to drive us down like a heard of swine into the River Bann

Brave Porter fell a victim, because he did intend
To help his brother Protestants heir lives for to defend
The blood did stain the waters red, their bones lay all around
As they drove them down into the Bann that flows through Portadown

A lady living in Loughgall and with her children five
She begged for the sake of them to let her be alive
That she might go to England her husband there to see
And to live in peace and unity and far from Popery

But O they would not hear her cry, they placed her on the ground
And after having tortured her the six of them they bound
They said, "You are a heretic, the Pope you do defy
And its from this bridge in Portadown this day your doom to die."

And after having tortured her to a pain she could not stand
Down through the streets of Portadown they dragged her to the Bann e

I look aroond the steading, but Johnnie's nae th
And the thought of five young children was leading her astray

At least the hundred faithful souls in Portadown were slain
All were the deeds of Popery their wicked ords to gain
But god sent down brave Cromwell our Deliverer to be
And he put down Popery in this land us Protestants set free

King William soon came after him and planted at the Boyne
An Orange Tree there that we should bear in mind
How Popery did murder us Protestants did drown
The bones of some can still be seen this day in Portadown.

THE BATTLE OF THE BOYNE

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 banners flew.
Woe worth the hour- worth the state, when men shall cease to join
Wit grateful hearts to celebrate the glories of the Boyne!

THE BATTLE OF THE DIAMOND-21st SEPTEMBER, 1795

It was not in faction, it was not in hate,
That we men of the North assembled;
It was that our own and our children's fate,
In the balance no longer trembled.

For there came - 'twas at night, a lawless band,
Their ranks like a torrent swelling,
With the weapon of slaughter in each man's hand,
Where we in our homes, were dwelling.

Darkly they came, in the dead of night,
They gave no word of warning,
And they laughed at the blaze their brands should light,
And the smoke that should greet the morning.

They paus'd--did they fear the storm they'd woke?
That they faltered as forth we sallied?
For we saw when the light of the morning broke,
On the Diamond Hill they'd rallied.

What though they were many, and we but few,
Yet each to the conflict hasted,
And the shot was sharp, and the aim was true,
While that fearful struggle lasted.

Yes, last it did - aye, many a day!
But the shield of our God was o'er us;
Till at last, like a quarry long held at bay,
We drove them like chaff before us.

Then blame us not, when all was o'er,
And we looked on the dead around us,
If then, and for ever, an oath we swore,
To be found as that day had found us.

Stern and steadfast, and linked as one,
On God and ourselves relying;
Seeking quarrel or feud with none,
But all on our hearths defying.

Traverse who will that wretched land,
Now rife with revolt and riot;
And where'er ye shall hear of our loyal band
There alone shall ye find it quiet.

Yes! cold suspicion, and scoff, and scorn,
And caiumny, have assailed us;
Aye! hard though it was - all these we've borne,
Not once have our true hearts failed us.

We have bided our time - it is well nigh come!
It will find us stern and steady;
It will need not to rouse us with trumpet or drum,
For our hearts and our arms are ready.


Note: "Not a Drum was Heard" is the correct air for this song,
however, as with many songs in our collection it remains a mystery.
The song itself is an account of a battle beween the Roman Catholic
"Defenders" and the Protestant "Peep o' Day Boys". The Defenders who
had some thirty men killed were frustrated in their intention to expel
the Protestants from Co. Armagh. The Protestants won without loss of
life, and, shortly after founded the Loyal Orange Institution of
Ireland, which remains a strong part of Unionism and Protestantism
in Ireland. (The Orange Lark)

LURGAN TOWN

Oh Lurgan town's an altered town,
Since papish Hancock he came to it
If ye walk on the twelfth day of July,
Ye may depend he'll make you rue it,
And if you sing an Orange song,
Ye'll be jailed for eight and forty hours.
Fresh orders he has gave his police,
To make prisoners of none but ours.

cho: Whack fol la, Too rye ay
Whack fol right fol too rye addy

Lurgan hill is one high hill,
The devil's hill the truth I tell ye.
The Fenian master he lives there
Besides his name is Francis Kelly;
And every night the meeting's held,
About Repeal and Dan O'C@nnell;
And divil the man dare pass that way,
Unless his name is Pat or Donal.

We held a dance in ould Kilmore,
The Fenian bulldogs they came to it.
They danced our maids right round the floor,
And ordered Patrick's Day to play it
Garyowen and the White Cockade,
These were the tunes that they did want sirs,
As round the floor they danced our maids,
Sayin' "You never stood before such dancers."

The twelfth day of July came round,
We raised up thirty stand of colours;
And on that hill we raised an arch,
And on it printed "Here's no cowards,"
"Now," says Kelly, "lf you come through
Your Orange blood we'll surely scatter."
We turned, shook hands, all we could do,
Was say, Boys remember the Boyne Water."

THE BATTLE OF GARVAGH

The day before the July fair
The Ribbonmen they did prepare
For three miles round to wreck and tear
And burn the town of Garvagh

The Tory whistle loud and shrill
We heard it o'er the high Mourne Hill
Fall on, brave oys, well slay and kill
The Protestants in Garvagh

The day cam on they did repair in multitudes to Garvagh Fair
Some traveled thirty miles and more
To burn the town of Garvagh

They all appeared in greatest haste
White handkerchiefs tied round their wasts
But their jackets we did soundly baste
That July fair in Garvagh

To Coleraine straightaway we went
For aid but none for us they sent
This bloody crew all to prevent
From their design on Garvagh

To Provines then we quick applied
For aid which he soon us denied
Saying Longest stands the thougest hide
I'll find no aid for Garvagh

The Protestants and Orangemen
Like brothers did assemble then
To keep the town was their design
Or die like men in Garvagh

We fired blank shots of no avail
The Orange balls they flew like hail
While Ribbonmen soon turned their tail
With deadly wounds from Garvagh

Then Captain Douay cried, Brave Boys
Maintain your Cause and fear no noise
We'll massacre these Orange Boys
And burn the town of Garvagh

He had not turned himself well round
Till he received a deadly wound
His heels went up his head went down
At the third tree in Garvagh

We gave the word to clear the street
While numbers flew like hunted sheep
When Protestants did Papists meet
At Davidsons in Garvagh

Oh then brave boys if you had seen
Twas the best man through Ballinameen
While Orange Boys pursued them keen
And cleared the town of Garvah

But mark what followed this affray
They thought to swear our lives away
To jail we went without delay
We had no guards from Garvagh

They horrid oaths against us swore
Such swearing you ne'er heard before
McCluskey swore three hours of more
Against the Boys of Garvagh

The Judge then he would us condemn
Had it not been for our jurrymen
Our grateful thanks are due to them
For they cleared the Boys of Garvagh

All thanks and praise we'll tender still
To Mr. Price and brave George Hill
The Beresfords befriend us still
For they cleared the Boys of Garvagh.

THE BOYNE WATER
(Lieutenant Colonel William Blacker)

July the First in Ouldbridge Town there was a grievous battle
Where many a man lay on the ground by cannons that did rattle;
Kin James he pitched his tents between the lines for to retire,
But King William threw his bombballs in and set them all on fire.

Whereat they vowed revenge upon King William s forces
And oft did vehemently cry that they would stop their courses;
A bullet from the Irish cam an grazed King William s arm,
They thought His Majesty was slain, yet it did him little harm.

Duke Schomberg then, in friendly care, his King would often caution
To shun the spot where bullets hot retained their rapid motion;
But William said, He don t deserve the name of Faith s Defender,
Who would not venture life and limb to make a foe surrender.

When we the Boyne began to cross,the enemy descended,
But few of our brave men were lost, so stoutly we defended;
The Horse it was that first marched o er, the Foot soon followed after,
But brave Duke Schomberg was no more by venturing o er the water.

When valiant Schomberg he was slain, King William he accosted
His warlike men for to march on and he would be foremost;
Brave boys he cried be not dismayed for the loss of one commander,
For God shall be our kin this day and I ll be general under.

Then stoutly we the Boyne did cross to give the enemies battle;
Our cannon to our foes great cost, like thundering claps did rattle;
In majestic mien our Prince rode o er his men soon followed after,
With blow and shout put our foe to the rout, the day we crossed the water.

The Protestants of Drogheda have reason to be thankful
That they were not to bondage brought, they being but a handful;
First to the Those they were brought and tried at Millmount after,
But brave King William set them free by venturing o er the water.

The cunning French near to Duleek had taken up their quarters,
And found themselves on every side still waiting for new orders;
But in the dead time of the night they set the fields on fire
And long before the morning s light to Dublin did retire.

Then said King William to his men after the French departed
I m glad, said he that non of ye seem to be faint-hearted;
So sheath your swords and rest awhile , in time we ll follow after ,
These words he uttered with a smile the day he crossed the water.

Come let us all with heart and voice applaud our live's defender
Who at the Boyne his valor showed and mad his for surrender
To God above, the praise we ll give now and ever after,
And bless the glorious memory of King William that crossed the water.

OULD FATHER DAN

I once knew a dodger whose name was father Dan
But to purgatory he's gone long ago
To atone for the sins he committed all for scran
He is living with his Uncle Tom Below

cho: Then square up your shovels in a row
Tumble up the sods with the hoe boys O
There is no more rent for ould Father Dan
He is gone where the rest all will go

Now ould Father Dan was the rarest ould sprig
That Ireland did ever see
For the most of his wit och! it lay in his wig
And he long kept the rent box key

But alas like all flesh ould Father Dan did die
The big begger-man is no more
And the boys for the halfpence they've lost often sigh
They swear they've been done o'er and o'er

Though his head was as big as any timber block
He was a fox only he wanted the tail
For the love of the boys he kept all their stock
But to purgatory one day he set sail

Dan started for purgatory one could Winters morn
And the Bansheis rent the air with their woe
For the Repeaters of their cash were shorn
And Repeal with Dan sent below

But the boys pray that Old Nick may claim his own
When from purgatory Father Dan is cast
And that with serpents hell be left for to gloan
For the rent box he long held so fast

NO SURRENDER

Today we meet a civic band
In proud congratulation
To celebrate the gallant stand
Which saved our faith and nation
No recreant fear shall hush the cheer
Which waks us to remember
The closing gate and boyish feat
Of glorious old December

Chorus: Then raise the cheer to freemen dear
And toast each brave defender
For nought imparts to Derry hearts
A thrill like No surrender

Brave hearts they stuck the rallying blow
For each loved home and altar
Nor traitor friend nor bigot foe
Their plighted faith could falter
Old Walker's zeal and Murray's steel
Came in their need to cheer them
And sallies great from open gate
Soon taught their foe to fear them

Gainst Mighty odds they held their wall
Through plague and grim starvation
Combined to cause their city's fall
And crush the hapless nation
True to their trust no craven durst
E'en breathe the word SURRENDER
For gathering ill but nerved the will
Of each resolved Defender!

Till townward on Foyle's rising tide
Brave Browning's vessel bounded
A shock-a crash-a belched broadside
And victory's note has sounded
Then banded here, from year to year
We'll cherish the proud story
Come weal or woe no plotting foe
Shall rob us of our glory!

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