Orange And Green Will Carry The Day.

Air--The Protestant Boys.


I.

Ireland! rejoice, and England! deplore--
Faction and feud are passing away.
'Twas a low voice, but 'tis a loud roar,
"Orange and Green will carry the day."
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Pitted together in many a fray--
Lions in fight!
And linked in their might,
Orange and Green will carry the day.
Orange! Orange!
Green and Orange!
Wave them together o'er mountain and bay.
Orange and Green!
Our King and our Queen!
"Orange and Green will carry the day!"


II.

Rusty the swords our fathers unsheathed--
William and James are turned to clay--
Long did we till the wrath they bequeathed,

Red was the crop, and bitter the pay!
Freedom fled us!
Knaves misled us!
Under the feet of the foemen we lay--
Riches and strength
We'll win them at length,
For Orange and Green will carry the day!
Landlords fooled us;
England ruled us,
Hounding our passions to make us their prey;
But, in their spite,
The Irish UNITE,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!


III.

Fruitful our soil where honest men starve;
Empty the mart, and shipless the bay;
Out of our want the Oligarchs carve;
Foreigners fatten on our decay!
Disunited,
Therefore blighted,
Ruined and rent by the Englishman's sway;
Party and creed
For once have agreed--
Orange and Green will carry the day!
Boyne's old water,
Red with slaughter!
Now is as pure as an infant at play;
So, in our souls,
Its history rolls,
And Orange and Green will carry the day!


IV.

English deceit can rule us no more;
Bigots and knaves are scattered like spray--
Deep was the oath the Orangeman swore,
"Orange and Green must carry the day!"
Orange! Orange!
Bless the Orange!
Tories and Whigs grew pale with dismay,
When from the North
Burst the cry forth,
"Orange and Green will carry the day!"
No surrender!
No Pretender!
Never to falter and never betray--
With an Amen,
We swear it again,
ORANGE AND GREEN SHALL CARRY THE DAY.

Thomas Osborne Davis

Thomas Osborne Davis was an Irish writer, poet, and politician who is best known as the chief organizer of the Young Ireland movement. He was born on October 14, 1814, in Mallow, County Cork, Ireland, and played a significant role in promoting Irish nationalism. Davis was a prolific writer who contributed greatly to Irish literature and national identity. He passed away at a young age of 30 due to scarlet fever on September 16, 1845.

Thomas Osborne Davis

We Must Not Fail.

Thomas Osborne Davis, Simple Poetry

The Vow Of Tipperary.

Thomas Osborne Davis, Simple Poetry

Lament For The Death Of Eoghan Ruadh O'Neill.[1]

Thomas Osborne Davis, Simple Poetry

Clare's Dragoons.

Thomas Osborne Davis, Simple Poetry

English

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The Green Above The Red.

Air--Irish Molly O!


I.

Full often when our fathers saw the Red above the Green,
They rose in rude but fierce array, with sabre, pike and scian,
And over many a noble town, and many a field of dead,
They proudly set the Irish Green above the English Red.


II.

But in the end throughout the land, the shameful sight was seen--
The English Red in triumph high above the Irish Green;
But well they died in breach and field, who, as their spirits fled,
Still saw the Green maintain its place above the English Red.


III.

And they who saw, in after times, the Red above the Green
Were withered as the grass that dies beneath a forest screen;
Yet often by this healthy hope their sinking hearts were fed,
That, in so...

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The Dugannon Convention.

I.

The church of Dungannon is full to the door,
And sabre and spur clash at times on the floor,
While helmet and shako are ranged all along,
Yet no book of devotion is seen in the throng.
In the front of the altar no minister stands,
But the crimson-clad chief of these warrior bands;
And, though solemn the looks and the voices around,
You'd listen in vain for a litany's sound.
Say! what do they hear in the temple of prayer?
Oh! why in the fold has the lion his lair?


II.

Sad, wounded, and wan was the face of our isle,
By English oppression and falsehood and guile;
Yet when to invade it a foreign fleet steered,
To guard it for England the North volunteered.
From the citizen-soldiers the foe fled aghast--
Still they stood to their gun...

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As Ireland Wore The Green

By right of birth in southern land I send my warning forth.
I see my country ruined by the wrongs that damned the North.
And shall I stand with fireless eyes and still and silent mouth
While Mammon builds his Londons on the fair fields of the South?

CHORUS:
        O must we hide our colour
                In fear of Mammons spleen?
                Or shall we wear the bonnie blue
                As Ireland wore the green?
                As Ireland wore the green, my friends!
                As Ireland wore the green!
                Aye, we will wear our colour still,
                As Ireland wore the green!

I see the shade of poverty fall on each sunny scene.
And slums and alley-ways extend where fields were evergreen.
There is a law that s...

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The Battle Eve Of The Brigade.

Air--Contented I am.


I.

The mess-tent is full, and the glasses are set,
And the gallant Count Thomond is president yet;
The veteran stands, like an uplifted lance,
Crying--"Comrades, a health to the monarch of France!"
With bumpers and cheers they have done as he bade,
For King Louis is loved by the Irish Brigade.


II.

"A health to King James," and they bent as they quaffed,
"Here's to George the Elector," and fiercely they laughed,
"Good luck to the girls we wooed long ago,
Where Shannon and Barrow and Blackwater flow;"
"God prosper Old Ireland,"--you'd think them afraid,
So pale grew the chiefs of the Irish Brigade.


III.

"But, surely, that light cannot come from our lamp,
And that noise-...

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Fontenoy.

I.

Thrice, at the huts of Fontenoy, the English column failed,
And twice the lines of Saint Antoine the Dutch in vain assailed;
For town and slope were filled with fort and flanking battery,
And well they swept the English ranks and Dutch auxiliary.
As vainly, through De Barri's wood, the British soldiers burst,
The French artillery drove them back, diminished, and dispersed.
The bloody Duke of Cumberland beheld with anxious eye,
And ordered up his last reserve, his latest chance to try,
On Fontenoy, on Fontenoy, how fast his generals ride!
And mustering come his chosen troops, like clouds at eventide.


II.

Six thousand English veterans in stately column tread;
Their cannon blaze in front and flank, Lord Hay is at their head;
Steady they step a-do...

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Nationality.

I.

A Nation's voice, a nation's voice--
It is a solemn thing!
It bids the bondage-sick rejoice--
'Tis stronger than a king.
'Tis like the light of many stars,
The sound of many waves,
Which brightly look through prison bars,
And sweetly sound in caves.
Yet is it noblest, godliest known,
When righteous triumph swells its tone.


II.

A nation's flag, a nation's flag--
If wickedly unrolled,
May foes in adverse battle drag
Its every fold from fold.
But in the cause of Liberty,
Guard it 'gainst Earth and Hell;
Guard it till Death or Victory--
Look you, you guard it well!
No saint or king has tomb so proud
As he whose flag becomes his shroud.


III.

A nation's right, a nation's right--
God...

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