The Orange Lilly "O"

The Orange Lilly "O"

Saturday, 28 May 2011

The Oul Lambeg Drum (V)

The instrument now that I want to describe
Is the greatest that ever a man did contrive
Its size and its sound are second to none
I’m referring of course to the oul lambeg drum.

There are many who think they know how it’s done
A secret passed down from father to son
But a good drum is different by a fraction of a tone
How to get them to do it not many have known.

The things I’ve picked up can’t be found in your books
They’re part of the knowledge of James Michael Crooks
Drum maker and player of quite some repute
A gentleman, scholar, that none can dispute.

The first is the body that’s known as the shell
A thin piece of oak with two hoops as well
Over the flesh hoops a skin on each side
What better use for a white she goat’s hide.

The brace hoops and rope are all that is left
To tension the drum and give of its best
With a pull here and there and a slip of a knot
Then have a wee drop just to see what you’ve got.

Now comes the skill as you balance each side
A tap here and there to tension the hide
Lively and drunk, yet not to bare
Listen to her whistle as she blows out the air.

And now to the drummer each one with his beat
As he rolls her right up ‘tis a sound oh so sweet
Don’t kill her with weight. Keep her light and in time
Hold her up to the judges and all will be fine.

Remember the Alamo (V)

A hundred and eighty were challenged by Travers to die,
By a line that he drew with his sword as the battle drew nigh.
A man that crossed over the line was for glory,
And he that was left better fly,
And over the line crossed a hundred and seventy nine.

Hey, Up, Santa Anna, they’re killing your soldiers below,
So the rest of Texas will know, and remember the Alamo.

Jim Bowie lay dying, his blood and his powder were dry,
But his knife at the ready to take him a few in reply.
Young Davey Crockett lay laughing and dying,
The blood and the sweat in his eyes,
For Texas and freedom a man was more willing to die.

Hey, Up, Santa Anna, they’re killing your soldiers below,
So the rest of Texas will know, and remember the Alamo.

A courier came to battle, once bloody and loud.
And found only skin and bones where he once left a crowd.
Fear not, little darling, of dying, if the world is sovereign and free,
For, we’ll fight to the last for as long as liberty be.

Hey, Up, Santa Anna, they’re killing your soldiers below,
So the rest of Texas will know, and remember the Alamo.

Friday, 27 May 2011

They Made the Ultimate Sacrifice (V)

They Made the Ultimate Sacrifice (V)
(A tribute to the UDR & RUC)

Away from a doorstep, from a mother and child
A smile from a father, a look of longing & pride
He drives off slowly, she turns from the door
In that very second, his life is no more
Another young life taken, what difference does it make
A father building a future, for his wife and namesake

Another family ripped apart, Lord tell me why?
Help me to understand, he reasons they should die
They joined the UDR and the RUC
Made the ultimate sacrifice, protecting you and me

Bags filled with God knows what, he took them to the car
Looks at the wife hes always loved, her mind somewhere far
Etched on her sweet face, a look of horror and pain
He knows that when he turns around, he'el never see her again

He smiles and lips I love you, turns to the evil now here
Still protecting the one he loves, doing so without fear

Another family ripped apart, Lord tell me why?
Help me to understand. the reasons they could die
They joined the UDR and the RUC
Made the ultimate sacrifice, protecting you and me

A mother waits on her childs return, it's getting late
She waits for a car light, or a rattle from her gate
Relief as those signs come, but then a noise that makes her numb
Out she runs on her bare feet, heart ripped out by what she meets
Her child sits still within the car, how did this country get this far
As her childs life blood seeps away, onto her knees she prays

Another family ripped apart, Lord tell me why?
Help me to understand, the reasons they should die
They joined the UDR and the RUC
Made the ultimate sacrifice, protecting you and me

Now there is new security, but the terrorists still here
Police and soldiers families, still living with fear
Sappers Azimkar and Quincey, Constables Carroll and Kerr
The heartache and the sorrow, their families must share

Faceless men say it's for Ireland, but they will lose the fight
For every child that they do kill, they give up their right
This is our country and the more they do kill
Many more will line up, their places to fill
British or Irish, it's all up to us
To live our lives together and each other to trust

No more families ripped apart, stop the killing now
Stop Republican murder gangs, let no others die
They joined the UDR and the RUC
Made the ultimate sacrifice, protecting you and me

Wednesday, 18 May 2011

The Tartan!

    Here's to it!
    The fighting sheen of it,
    The yellow, the green of it,
    The white, the blue of it,
    The swing, the hue of it,
    The dark, the red of it,
    Every thread of it!

    The fair have sighed for it,
    The brave have died for it,
    Foemen sought for it,
    Heroes fought for it,
    Honour the name of it,
    Drink to the fame of it -

          THE TARTAN!


Tha rhyme am gantae share wae yese at this festive sayson o tha year is yin tha wus sent frae tha front lines in France awa bak in 1916. A thocht it wus fittin wae sae mony young yins awa fechtin in Afganhistan an tha lake.


My muse she wears the beggar's badge,
For, 'pon my faith, she's on the cadge.
Tho' bardies a' they  may rampage At me
I still intend wi' ye tae lodge My plea.

We've some excuses for our crime
Since we've committed it in ryhme ;
Besides, it is the Christmas time.
A double dole
Is beggar's due in every clime
Frae pole tae pole.

The public hae been mair than guid,
(The cash box early lost its lid).
That we're unworthy, Heaven forbid,
Yer gifts or money !
An' he can gie us his hearts bluid, 
Poor Tommy !

My mates an' I we dinna fash
Aboot fitba' or any trash.
(In fact, we haenae time tae wash)
Oor greatest plight
Is want o' lamps tae gae a flash at nicht.

Whene'er the Germans rival hell
We are the lads tak' up the shell ;
At nicht we gallop of pell-mell
Through wat an' mud
Ower roads that luk'd aboot as well
In Noah's flood.

Noo, should the public heed my plea.
I want some scores o' lamps, ye see,
My mates an' I maist thankfully
Will them accept
If not, we will still happy be
Wae what we get.

For we're as cheerful as can be
An' through the glar up tae the knee
We lauch an' joke wi' muckle g'ee
Determin'd tae swim
Through mud and Germans  one tae three
Until we've won.

                       Gunner R. J. M'Lean
75th B. A. C. Guards Division. B. E. F. France

Another Man's Wedding

Another Man's Wedding

I was invited to another man's wedding
All by a fair one that proved so unkind
And aye as she thought on her old former lover
The thoughts ofher darling still ran in her mind.

When dinner was over and all things were completed
 It fell each young man's lot to sing a love song
And it happened to fall on her old former lover:
To sing those few verses in winnae keep you long.

- Oh, many's the lord was seven years from his lady
 And many's the lord he never came back again
But I was only one year away from my darling
When an unconstant lover to me she became.

Oh, how can you sit at another man's table
Or how can you drink of another man's wine
Or how can you lie in the arms of another,
You that was so long a true lover of mine?

The bride she was seated at the head of the table
And every word she remembered it well;
To bear it in mind tbis fair maid she was not able
And down at the groom's feet she instantlie fell.
- There is one request and I will ask you for no other,
The first and the last, love, perhaps it may be:
Only this one night to stay with my mother,
The rest of my time I will share it all with you.

The request it was asked and just immediately granted,
Sighing and sobbing she went into her bed
And early the next morning when the young groom awoken
He went into her chamber and found that she was dead.

He lifted her up from her soft and downy pillow
He carried her out into the garden so green,
With sheets and fine pillows, oh, soon they did surround her
Still thinking that his young wife she might come to life again.

- Oh Sally, lovely Sally, when you and I were courting
You vowed and declared that you loved no one but me,
But them that depends upon fair maiden's folly
Their love it will decay like the bark on the tree.

All around my hat I will wear a weeping willow,
All around my hat until death it comes to me
And if anybody asks me why I wear the willow
It is all for my true love that I never more will see.

Parcel O' Rogues

Parcel O' Rogues

Fareweel to a' aur Scottish fame,
Fareweel aur ancient glory;
Fareweel e'en tae aur Scottish name
Sae fam'd in martial story
Now Sark rins tae th' Solway sands,
An' Tweed runs tae th' ocean..
Tae mark whaur England's Province stands,
Sic a parcel o' rogues in a nation!

What force or guile could no subdue
Thro' many warlike ages,
Is wrought now by a coward few
For hireling traitor's wages.

The English steel we could disdain,
Secure in valour's station.
But English gold has been aur bane:
Sic a parcel o rogues in a nation!

Oh, wud or I had a seen the day
That treason thus could sell us!
My auld grey heid had lien in clay,
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace!

But, pith and power, till my last hour,
I'll mak this declaration:
We were bought and sold for English gold!
Sic a parcel o' rogues in a nation!
Sic a parcel o' rogues in a nation!

Hi Uncle Sam!

Hi Uncle Sam!

When freedom was denied you,
And imperial might defied you,
Who was it stood beside you
At Quebec and Brandywine?

And dared retreats and dangers,
Red-coats and Hessian strangers,
In the lean, long-rifled Rangers,
And the Pennsylvania Line!

Hi! Uncle Sam!
Wherever there was fighting,
Or wrong that needed writing,
An Ulsterman was sighting
His Kentucky gun with care:

All the road to Yorktown,
From Lexington to Yorktown,
From Valley Forge to Yorktown,
That Ulsterman was there!

Hi! Uncle Sam!
Virginia sent her brave men,
The North paraded grave men,
That they might not be slavemen,
But ponder this with calm:

The first to face the Tory,
And the first to lift Old Glory,
Made your war an Ulster story:
Think it over, Uncle Sam!

Written by the Reverend William Forbes Marshall BA. LLB. DD. MRIA (8 May 1888 - January 1959) was a Poet and Presbyterian Minister from Sixmilecross, County Tyrone,  Ulster

Monday, 16 May 2011


Sally Munroe

My name is John Dickson a blacksmith by trade
And in the county Armagh I was there born and raised;
From Armagh to Belfast a journey I did go,
It was there I fell in love with young Sally Munroe.
I once had a companion I thought I could depend
And with him a letter to Sally would send
But instead of a friend he proved a great foe
And he never gave my letter to Sally Munroe.

He told her old mother to be wary of me
That I had a wife in my own counterie
Said her poor old mother: "If that then be so
He never shall wed with young Sally Munroe."

For six months and better not a word did I hear
From that pretty wed damsel whom I loved so dear
Till one morning in summer I walked up Sandy Row
And who did I meet but young Sally Munroe.

I asked her would she come to Newry town with me
With consent from her parents and married we would be
Her parents consented and away we did go
And got wed at the altar to Sally Munroe.

Our Gallant ship "Newry" at Warrenpoint lay
With five hundred passengers booked for America
I there booked my passage to Quebec to go
I also made a bargain for Sally Munroe.

When we were three days sailing there came on a fog
And to my misfortune our good ship did lodge
The women were drownded with the children below
Down to the bottom went young Sally Munroe.

There were men on that voyage that all lost their wives
There were women and children who all lost their lives
My life was spared and my tears they do flow
I sigh when I think of my Sally Munroe.

William Bloat

The Ballad Of William Bloat

In a mean abode on the Skankill Road
Lived a man named William Bloat;
He had a wife, the curse of his life,
Who continually got his goat.
So one day at dawn, with her nightdress on
He cut her bloody throat.

With a razor gash he settled her hash
Oh never was crime so quick
But the drip drip drip on the pillowslip
Of her life blood made him sick.
And the pool of gore on the bedroom floor
Grew clotted and cold and thick.

And yet he was glad he had done what he had
When she lay there stiff and still
But a sudden awe of the angry law
Struck his heart with an icy chill.
So to finish the fun so well begun
He resolved himself to kill.

He took the sheet from the wife's coul' feet
And twisted it into a rope
And he hanged himself from the pantry shelf,
'Twas an easy end, let's hope.
In the face of death with his latest breath
He solemnly cursed the Pope.

But the strangest turn to the whole concern
Is only just beginning.
He went to Hell but his wife got well
And she's still alive and sinning.
For the razor blade was German made
But the sheet was Belfast linen.

Sunday, 15 May 2011



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 aw

Saturday, 14 May 2011

The Ballad Of Annie Moore (V)

As I roved out one evening in the month of sweet July
Through shady groves and valleys and streams as I passed by
The small birds they sat mourning on each green shady grove
They joined their notes with that youth lamenting for his love.

He tore his hair distracted oft times his hands he wrung
The tears ran down his rosy cheeks like a waterery stream
But still he cried my darling's gone the maid that I adore
By a sudden call to her long home - will I never see her more.

She was a proper sweet young girl scarce seventeen years of age
And in no riotous company was ever she engaged
Her comrade girl asked her out a-walking for to go
She took her to that fateful spot which proved her overthrow

It was on the twelfth day of July in the year of thirty-five
It ne'er shall be forgot by me as long as I'm alive
It was that day that very day my love was torn from me
She was the Rose of Belfast town and the flower of this country.

It was on the twelfth day of July orange arches we did form
And Harvey and his cavalry thought to cut them down by storm
But all their efforts were in vain for we would not comply
And as we advanced ''No Surrender'' was our cry.

When riding forth to cut them down we received a mortal blow
You know a stone from David's sling did lay Goliath low
Then the Light Infantry got an order to fire a round of ball
It was at that fatal moment my true love she did fall.

A ball it entered in her breast and pierced her body though
And gently fell and waved her hand she could not bid adieu
As I held her milk white hand in mine my heart being filled with woe
To see those lips I oftimes kissed,now whiter than the snow.

Annie Moore was my love's name of credit and renown
She the flower of Ulster and the Rose of Belfast town
The Protestant cause she dearly loved - William's sons she did adore
And round her neck even to the last an orange ribbon wore.

The Protestants of Belfast turned out like heroes brave
To carry her remains to the cold and silent grave
And many of those heroes that day in tears were found
At the leaving of her residence convenient to the town.

Her dear friends and relations their lost one they now deplore
Likewise her comrade girl goes a-walking round the shore
Their many hearts are merry while my poor heart is dry
For it makes me sigh when I think of that twelfth day of July.

On Boynes Red Shore (King Williams March) (V)

It was a morning in July in 16 and 90
Two great armies were converging on the River Boyne
On the left you had King  James of Scotland with 26,000 men
James arrived at the Boyne first and set up his great tents and cannons and he waited

On the other side you had King William Prince of Orange with 30,000 men
As william rode through the narrow country lanes of Ireland, on that hot sunny July morning in 1690, he was armed with the latest in artillery that day

Finally William too arrived at the Boyne and set up camp and prepared to do battle
Then at 8 o'clock on the 1st of July 16 and 90 the Battle of the Boyne started
The fighting lasted throughout the day until 4o;clock in the afternoon
1,500 men were killed on that day, James fled the battle field and William Prince of Orange was victorious

Sound your drum & flash your sword
Wade into King James'es hoarde
watch the wind and trust the Lord
for we'el die for our royal William

On Boynes great shore that glorious day
30,000 they beat their way
For Orange we'el fight and for Orange we'el say
We'el die for our Royal William


On Boyne's red field, in the afternoon
Through the smokes undaunting gloom
As horses fell and cannons boomed
And blast the way for William


On Boyne's red field of bloody gore
James he cried No more!  No More!
The time has come, to end this war
I concede defeat to William


You Williamites So True

You Williamites so true, of the Orange and the Blue
That dwell in this country all round ,round ,round
O! May they increase and multiply in ev'ry place
And join to keep rebellion down, down down,
And Join to keep rebellion down

On the 23rd of May was to have been the fatal day
To assassinate all friends of the crown, crown, crown
But our kingly yeomen brave, our country then did save,
By keeping the rebellion down, down,down
By Keeping the rebellion down

Oh! Well may you rembember, on the 4th of last November
The birthday of William, high in renown, nown,nown
What a glorious sight was seen that day in College-green
Of them that kept rebellion down down, down.
Of them that kept rebellion down.

The Crops were so dismayed when our Orange was displayed.
At our victory they were seen to frown frown, frown,
They also stopped their ears being much annoyed by cheers
And the band playing "Croppies lie down," down down
And the band playing "Croppies lie down."

So fill high your glasses to him who made the Crops to swing
In villages, in cities, and in town, town, town
Lord Camden is his name, may he shortly come again,
To keep rebellion down, down, down.
To keep rebellion down.- Graham

Ye Jacobites by Name

 Ye Jacobites by Name

Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear, lend an ear,
Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear;
Ye Jacobites by name,
Your fautes I will proclaim,
Your docrines I maun blame - you shall hear! you shall hear!
Your docrines I maun blame - you shall hear!

What is Right, and what is Wrang, by the law, by the law?
What is Right, and what is Wrang, by the law,
What is Right, and what is Wrang,
A short sword and a lang,
A weak arm and a strang, for to draw! for to draw!
A weak arm and a strang, for to draw!


What makes heroic strife, famed afar? famed afar?
What makes heroic strife, famed afar?
What makes heroic strife?
To whet th' assassin's knife,
Or hunt a Parent's life, wi' bluidy war! bluidy war!
Or hunt a Parent's life, wi' bluidy war!


Then let your schemes alone, in the State, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone, in the State!
Then let your schemes alone,
Adore the rising sun,
And leave a man undone, to his fate, to his fate
And leave a man undone, to his fate


Meaning of Ulster Scots words:
fautes=falts; maun=must; wrang=wrong; lang=long; strang=strong; bluidy=bloody;

The poet Robert Burns lived not long after the Jacobite Uprising of 1745/46. Following the conflict, many songs were written, usually in support of the Jacobite cause. But a few were written putting the government/Hanoverian point of view. When Burns was putting together a collection of songs he had found while going round Scotland, he found one of these and wrote his own version. While Burns had expressed sympathy for the French Revolution, he clearly had no liking for the Jacobites.



The YCV Brigade (Newer Version) (V)

Oh father why are you so sad this 1st of July morn
When Ulster men are proudly glad of the land where they were born
Oh son I see in memory of the things that used to be
When being just a lad like you, I joined the Y.C.V

From the hills and glens the call to arms was heard by one and all
And from the glens came brave young men to answer Ulsters call
T'was long ago we faced the foe, the Y.C.V and me
And by my side they fought and died, that Ulster might be free

So now my son i've told you why on July morn I sigh
For I recall my Comrades all in darkest days gone by
I recall the men who fought in the glen with rifle and grenade
May heaven keep the men that sleep in the Y.C.V Brigade
Like many songs here there are several popular versions that whilst the tune remains common to them the words vary and this song falls into that category. Please see below for a slightly different version. The letters Y.C.V. stand for Young Citizen Volunteers.

Son you asked me why, I look so sad, this 1st of July morn
When Ulstermen, are proud and glad, of the land where they were born
Oh son I see, in memory, of things that used to be
When bein just, a lad like you, I joined the Y.C.V.

In hill and glen, his call to arms, was heard by one and all
And from the glens, came brave young men, to answer Carsons call
T'was way back then, we faced the foe, the Y.C.V. and me
And by my side, they fought and died, that Ulster might be free

So now my son, you’ll understand, why this July morn I sigh
For I recall, comrades who fell, in darkest days gone by
I recall the men, who fought back then, with rifle and grenade
Kind heaven keep, the men who sleep, in the Y.C.V. Brigade (x2)

We're Comin Down the Road (V)

In 1912 a home rule bill England would impose
Bnd so Lord Carson he did raise an army to oppose
But off to France our boys were sent and Lord Carson he did say
Go take our sons and tell the huns that we are on our way

And were comin were comin we are comin down the road
Were the volunteers of the U.V.F. and were comin down the road
Were comin were comin we are comin down the road
Were the volunteers of the U.V.F. and were comin down the road

So how far have we now come how far have we to go
And those we thought who were our friends now stand beside the foe
But take you heed the price is high that you will have to pay
So listen now and heed my words that we are on our way

And were comin were comin we are comin down the road
Were the 1st batallion U.V.F. and were comin down the road
Were comin were comin we are comin down the road
Were the 1st batallion U.V.F. and were comin down the road
Were comin were comin we are comin down the road

Were the volunteers of the U.V.F. and were comin down the road
Were comin were comin we are comin down the road
Were the volunteers of the U.V.F. and were comin down the road
Were the volunteers of the U.V.F. and were comin down the road

William's Day

William's Day

The glorious day of  Aughrim's field--
The day of chivalry-
We'll ne'er forget, when helm and shield
Were bless'd with victory!
Like wildfire flashed our engines, then
Red havoc spread dismay;
Up,rouse ye, then, my merry Orangemen
It is King William's day!

To blast the torch of Liberty.
Which our brave sires once fired.
False James--the slave of bigotry--
With Papist foes conspired.
But history's page tells where and when
We made them run away;
Up, rouse ye, then my merry Orangemen
It is King Wiliam's day!

Another Boyne may have its fray;
Another Aughrim rise;
Another Londonderry may
 Show where its martyr lies
And should such scenes blaze forth again--
Stand close upon that  day;
 Up, rouse ye, then, my merry Orangemen
It is King William's day!

William of Orange

William of Orange (dedicated to the orangemen of Canada)
Air--"The Protestant Boys".

Proudly march on, to the edge of the river,
The Protestant hosts, on the Twelfth of July;
For William of Orange has come to deliver
From prison the captives apointed to die!
And brave men, with hope,
See the slaves of the pope
Assembled to fight  for the minion of France;
The sun sheds his glory
On men famed in story,
Who longed for this hour, and the watchword  "advance".

Onward they go, as the music is pealing;
The drums cease to beat as they enter the Boyne,
Onward they go, with a confidnece sealing
The doom of the foe, ere in battle they join,
For God is their trust,
And the victory must,
Assuredly fall to the hosts  of the Lord;
For Him they are fighting--
His foes they are smiting--
And never fail they who for Him draw the sword.

William leads on, like a Protestant hero;
While James slinks away from the hill of Donore,
Frightened to death by that"Lilliburlero."
That cheers on the men on the opposite shore--
And, if ever again
The thing is to do that was done that July
With Orange flag flying,
And on god relying,
Such music shall lead men to conquer or die!

Ours is the victory! Praise be to Heaven!
The banner of Orange waves over the field!
The fetters James forged have by William been riven;
And never to tyrants shall Williamites yield!
For they will maintain
On the land and the main
Against Papal legions, the Right and the True;
And with life, shall never
Surrender, for ever,
Their standard of freedom -- the
Orange and Blue!

Will You Stand

Will You Stand

Oh! Will you stand. Oh! Will you stand
With the Ulster Volunteer Force as a patriotic band
Would you fight until the death would you join the UVF
If you can you're a man then you'll stand


And when the sound of the battle is over
It's shoulder to shoulder we'll stand
To remember the brave young Ulster soldiers
Who fought for the flag of the red hand

Oh! Will you stand Oh! Will you stand
Would you fight for God and Ulster and to keep it British land
With rifle and grenade would you serve the old brigade
If you can you're a man then you'll stand


Oh! Will you stand Oh! Will you stand
Would you bear and swear allegiance to the flag of the red hand
Would you fight and never fear with the Ulster Volunteers
If you can you're a man then you'll stand


Oh! Will you stand Oh! Will you stand
Would you travel the road where the brave and bold must go
Would you wear the black cockade
Would you serve the old brigade
If you can you're a man then you'll stand

"While the Orange Lilies Grow"

"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.

When this Old Sash was New

When this Old Sash was New

How stirring was the spirit, boys, that bounded in our breast,
When friendship lit our social joys and treason slept at rest;
There were no Popish cardinals to break England's laws all through,
Nor Ribbon flag dare to be seen when this old sash was new;

Then toast the memory of the men who popery did subdue,
And girt their swords, upon their loins when this old sash was new.

Our fertile plains were lit with smiles, shed by the general sun;
We little cared for Popish wiles while Orangemen were one.
For if a Popish rebel dare assault the orange or blue,
Our sword was from our scabbard bared when this old sash was new.


'Twas each peasant's cottage then,
there hung our ensign true,
Which flaunted on old Derry's walls at Boyne and Aughrim too.
Each loyal bosom throbbed to wear the orange and the blue,
Which made our foes oft blanch with fear when this old sash was new.


The brawny arms of Orangemen in camp and tented field,
Have kept their post o'er hill and glen, with bright and shining steel;
The foe far off dare not come near in battle to imbue,
Too well they feared our shining arms when this old sash was new.


There were no grants to foul Maynooth to educate her priests.
Nor papist dare with words uncouth sing at their Romish feasts;
For round old E ngland's diadem their burst upon the view,
The Orange diadem on its stem when this old sash was new.


Full fifty years have past and gone since it graced my neck,
Success is linked with noble deeds with me it paced the deck;
Now that life's scene draws to a close, let each young Orangeman true,
Proclaim with me no stains have fallen since this old sash was new.


But now far off the Papish threat at home the bombers rule
They've drawn us down to conference all backed up by foreign power,
Now our own politicos would break England's laws all through
There were no shouts or Trimble's Blair  when this olde sash was new

What are You?

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 th

What a friend we have in Jesus (Orange Version)

What a friend we have in Jesus

While the words remain it's the tune which changes in  the Orange version as sung by the group "The Low Country Boys That tune is :- "THE SASH MY FATHER WORE"
   What a friend we have in Jesus,
    all our sins and griefs to bear!
    What a privilege to carry
    everything to God in prayer!
    O what peace we often forfeit,
    O what needless pain we bear,
    all because we do not carry
    everything to God in prayer.

    Have we trials and temptations?
    Is there trouble anywhere?
    We should never be discouraged;
    take it to the Lord in prayer.
    Can we find a friend so faithful
    who will all our sorrows share?
    Jesus knows our every weakness;
    take it to the Lord in prayer.

    Are we weak and heavy laden,
    cumbered with a load of care?
    Precious Saviour, still our refuge;
    take it to the Lord in prayer.
    Do thy friends despise, forsake thee?
    Take it to the Lord in prayer!
    In his arms he'll take and shield thee;
    thou wilt find a solace there.

U.D.R. 4

U.D.R 4

    I'm a young Ulster Soldier from north of the border
    I'm one of the U.D.R 4
    They charged me murder just me and no other
    Now I am a lifer called Neil Latimer
    They locked me away where the sweet light of day
    Half reaches my Prison Cell door
    But no matter how long i'll fight on and on
    As one of the U.D.R 4


    Free Free I just want to be
    As free as the wind and the rain and the see
    Free Free I just want to be
    Out where the rivers run free
    So strike up the drum let me shoulder my gun
    Let the flutes play the Sash that my dear father wore
    Open the gates let me rejoin my mates
    As one of the U.D.R 4
    Together again we'll fight as young men
    As our forefathers did in the great days of yore
    And the IRA scum over the border will run
    In the charge of the U.D.R. 4


    So strike up the drum let me shoulder my gun
    Let the flutes play the Sash that my dear father wore
    Open the gates let me rejoin my mates
    As one of the U.D.R 4
    Together again we'll fight as young men
    As our forefathers did in the great days of yore
    And the IRA scum over the border will run
    In the charge of the U.D.R. 4

    (chorus x2)

Ulster Still Says NO!


Theres a despot known as King
Who has kissed Fitzgeralds ring
He's surrounded by his barbed wire fort of steel
Now Fitz' praises does he shout
Since he thinks he's sold us out
What a clever wheeze this Anglo IRAsh deal

Any change they even wrote
Would be a democratic vote
We could throw it out with a majority
So we gave this many tries
But exposed their shallow lies
For they trampled in the ground deMOCKracy

But the thing that really hurt
When 'The Lady' done the dirt
Was that "Out! Out! Out!"
Just sounded good to say

Like some team that won a cup
Their all carving Ulster up
With their Anglo IRAsh Chinese takeaway

Barry wants us all "faced down"
Says we'el soon forget the Crown
In his 'Berlin Bunker' Maryfield he struts

All his smarmy clever spiel
About their Anglo IRAsh Deal
Means we'el wind up like Gadaffi in mud huts

Their red letter days a coming
We can hear the lambegs drumming loud
The message that this deal has got to go

They should learn their lesson well
When their deals returned to hell
Try it on again and

The above ditty from the early 80s ended with a question
"Anglo IRAsh Deal - Where do you draw the line"?

ANSWER = Anglo TRAsh Deal

Up, Orangemen Up!

Up, Orangemen Up!

By the blood of your fathers, the martyrs of old,
By the honor and courage that never were sold.,
By the throne that you love, and the faith you revere,
Up, Orangemen! Up! And in phalanx appear.

By the dread recollection of horrors long past,
By the bigot, who still is as true to his caste,
By the Pope and the devil, who plot to betray,
Up, Orangemen! Up! And in battle array.

By all that kind heaven or earth can afford,
By religion and laws, and by torture abhor'd
By base superstition  and  priestcraft, and crime,
Up, Orangement!Up! 'tis the crisis of time.

By wife, home, and childre,n by friends and kin,
By the ONE sacred triumph of which Britons sing,
By the laws as THEY WERE made to keep Papists down--
Up, Orangemen! Up! And defend faith and crown.

Ulster to The Rescue!

Ulster to The Rescue!

The doubling drum is sounding
All o'er the loyal North,
And faithful hearts are bounding,
As its summons bids them forth;
And our fathers flag is flying
Aloft in blazoned pride
And fearless men are  hieing
To rank them by its side.

And Down's green vales are ringing
With loyal sounds once more,
To Antrim, Echo flinging
From cliff and rocky shore;
For Derry's ancient slogan
Is pealing to the sky,
And Bann gives back the token--
"We conquer or we die."

And stern Locch Erne is bounding
In answer to the call,
And stout Tyrone resounding,
Wakes rocky Donegal;
And all along the border
Of Cavan's fire-tried land,
Ranks in unbroken order
A firm devouted band.

And the "Diamond" bright is blazing
Mid champions of the truth
And the gathering cry is raising
The scatterers of Truagh;
And loud--hurrah! And louder!
O'er plain and inland wave,
Rings forth a summons prouder
Than ever monarch gave.

The motto of our glory!
The battle-word of old!
The boast of Orange story!
The 'prentice answer bold,
Rings louder--hurrah! Rings louder!
O'er plain and inland wave.
A mustering summons prouder
Than ever monarch gave.

And now, God bless the yeomen
In Ulster's happy homes,
God shield them from their foemen,
Uphold when danger comes,
May the Orange still united
With their fathers sturdy blue
By faction's breath unblighted
Wave o're their legions true.

 From statesmen, treason veiling,
'Neath false and hollow smiles;
From hearts in honor failing,
Or won by Jesuit wiles;
From fear when danger gathers
Or rebels venture forth;
Oh! Helper of our fathers!
Guard thou the loyal North!

Ulster Won't Die

Ulster Won't Die

Come all you young brethern and listen to me
And pledge that your country stays loyal and free
And step proudly forth each Twelth of July
And let Dublin know now that Ulster won't die

And if you love your country you'll stand up and cry
That the times they are achanging

For the people in Dublin with their gold, white and green
They don't want the border they don't want the Queen,
But the Queen and the border we'll never deny
We'll fight to defend them so Ulster won't die

And if you love your country you'll stand up and cry
That the times they are achanging

Now Armagh and Antrim, Londonderry and Down
Tyrone and Fermanagh remain true to the crown
They remember Lord Carson his famous reply
"No Home Rule in Ireland and Ulster won't die"

And if you love your country you'll stand up and cry
That the times they are achanging

For the red hand of Ulster, the red, white and blue
Are the symbols of freedom for me and for you
Let your watchword be courage let the Union Jack fly
For we won't surrender and Ulster won't die

And if you love your country you'll stand up and cry
That the times they are achanging

And if you love your country you'll stand up and cry
That the times they are achanging

Ulster For Ever

Ulster For Ever

Days are gone Oh my land my home
When our fathers fought to be free
Now we have our say, we would lead the way
Once more Oh Ulster for ever

Proud and brave Oh our fathers gave
For the right to think as we do
And in freedoms name we will stand again
Once more Oh Ulster for ever

High above on this land I love
Is the flag that is dearest to me
Let the banners fly In an Ulster sky
Once more Oh Ulster for ever

Days are gone Oh my land my home
But In memories still they remain
So proud to be in a land that's free
Once more Oh Ulster for ever

Twa Recruitin Sergeants

 Twa Recruitin Sergeants

Twa recruiting sergeants came fra the Black Watch
Tae markets and fairs, some recruits for tae catch
But a' that they 'listed was forty and twa:
Enlist my bonnie laddie an' come awa


And it's over the mountain and over the main
Through Gibralter, to France and Spain
Pit a feather tae your bonnet, and a kilt aboon your knee
Enlist my bonnie laddie and come awa with me.

Oh laddie ye dinna ken the danger that yer in
If yer horses was to fleg, and yer owsen was to rin
This greedy ole farmer, he wouldna pay yer fee
Sae list my bonnie laddie and come awa wi' me


With your tattie porin's and yer meal and kale,
Yer soor sowan' soorin's and yer ill-brewed ale,
Yer buttermilk, yer whey, and yer breid fired raw
Sae list my bonnie laddie and come awa


And its into the barn and out o' the byre
This ole farmer, he thinks ye never tire
It's slavery a' yer life, a life o' low degree
Sae list my bonnie laddie and come awa with me


O laddie if ye've got a sweetheart an' a bairn,
Ye'll easily get rid o' that ill-spun yarn
Twa rattles o' the drum aye and that'll pay it a'
Sae list my bonnie laddie and come awa.


The Billy Boys.

The Billy Boys

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.

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.

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.

The Union We'll Maintain

The Union We'll Maintain

Ye loyal sons of Ulster, why slumber and be stilI?
Once more your rebel foemen demand a Home Rule Bill.
Come, rally in your thousands from every hill and plain;
Let loyal Ulster's watchword be - the Union we'll maintain.

Our gallant sires in bygone days have gravely stood the field,
And shed their blood in Freedom's cause ere they to Rome would yield,
Had they an Irish Parliament, 'twere '98 again;
Forbid it Heaven, ring out your cry - the Union we'll maintain.

Can we forget the dreadful days when Rome she had full power,
Nor would its hand less cruel be had she it at this hour.
Think of the persecutions marked Bloody Mary's reign;
To Popish laws we'll never submit - the Union we'll maintain.

Remember Derry's dauntless few, who bravely drew their swords,
And shut their gates against King James and all his Popish hordes,
 At EnniskiIlen and the Boyne their blood was shed like rain,
 No compromise unto the foe - the Union we'll maintain.

Oh! Protestants united be, and never be misled
The time is nigh when we must strike for what our fathers bled.
Strive to undo what has been done your honour bright to stain,
We prize our blood bought privilege - the Union we'll maintain.

To win us all unto their cause they try by word and deed,
They say they wish the welfare of every class and creed.
Oh! Protestants be not deceived by wily men again
But proudly send your answer back - the Union we'll maintain.

Then rally, loyal Ulster's sons, and proud your banners wave;
With heart and voice make it your choice our blood bought rights to save.
Our Brethren across the seas will join the glad refrain,
Then in God's name your watchword raise - the Union we'll maintain.

The Union Cruiser (V)

Far across the stormy ocean in our happy Northern home,
Where our countrymen are arming to resist the wiles of Rome.
I can see the Union Cruiser in the harbour of Belfast
And the Orange flag of liberty is floating on her mast

Every city, town and village on our happy Northern coast
Is preparing to defend itself against the rebel hosts,
From the shores of Carrickfergus to the margins of Lough Neagh,
There's a hundred thousand Orangemen preparing for the fray.

Magherafelt and Castledawson, Maghera and Tobermore,
Are as eager for the conflict as they were in days of yore,
Culnady and the Tarnlaght boys still loyal to the throne
Are responding to the battle cry that comes from Portglenone.

With the fighting men of Garvah and the Sprigs of old Kilrea,
With their armour brightly burnished and their flags and banners gay,
Send a ringing call to arms rolling o'er our native hills
That was heard at Ballymoney, Agbadowey and Bushrnills.

The Spirit of Ulster


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


The South Down Militia

The South Down Militia

You may talk about your King's Guards, Scots Greys and a',
 You may sing about your Kilties and your gallant Forty Twa,
Or of any other regiment under the King's command,
But the South Down Militia is the terror of the land.

There's Russians and there's Prussians and brave Italians too,
 There's Greeks and Ancient Romans, not forgetting the Zulu,
But from Greenland's icy mountains to India's coral strand
The South Down Militia is the terror of the land.


You've heard of Julius Caesar and of great Napoleon too
And other famous hairymen that fought at Waterloo,
But if you read your history you'll quickly understand
The South Down Militia is the terror of the land.


And when we marched through London in the year of brave' 14
The gracious King reviewed us, and so did the gracious Queen.
"Och, bloody war!" says the Queen and waves her lily hand.
"The South Down Militia is the terror of the land."


When the Kaiser heard the regiment had landed down in France
In wild despair he tore his hair - "We haven't a flaming chance".
For when the Germans saw us coming they threw down their guns and ran for the South Down Militia is the terror of the land.


It was at the Royal Jubilee in the year of seventy-two
The Queen and the Royal Prince was there, inspecting the Great Tattoo,
 "Hey! Major Wallace!" says the Queen, 'Them boys of yours look grand!"
"Och hold your tongue" says Wallace "They're the terror of the land."


When Kruger heard the Regiment had landed at Capetown
"I regret" says he, "we're bate," says he, "we may throw our rifles down.
There is only the one conclusion we'd better quit the Rand
For the South Down Militia is the terror of the land."


The Sash My Father Wore (V)

Sure I'm an Ulster Orangeman, from Ulster's Shore I came,
To see my British Brethren all of honour and of fame,
And to tell them of my forefathers who fought in days of yore,
That I might have the right to wear, the sash my father wore!

It is old but it is beautiful, and its 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 on the Twelfth I love to wear the sash my father wore.

For those brave men who crossed the Boyne have not fought or died in vain,
Our Unity, Religion, Laws and Freedom to maintain,
If the call should come we'll follow the drum, and cross that river once more,
That tomorrow's Ulsterman may wear the sash my father wore!

And when some day, across the sea to Antrim's shore you come,
We'll welcome you in royal style, to the sound of flute and drum,
And Ulster's hills shall echo still from Rathlin to Dromore,
As we sing again the loyal strain of the sash

 The sash was the winner of a Grand Lodge of Scotland song competition at the end of the 19th century. Dr Clifford Smyth states that there are at least 6 different versions of the sash and perhaps more than that. It is not the most strident of Orange songs as you can scan the lines of it and find nothing to offend anyone in its verses. Above are two of the most popular versions. To hear more from Dr Smyth follow the link here to an hour long recording of a Radio Ulster programme from 1991 where he gives a potted history of the song.

The Shepherd's Boy

The Shepherd's Boy

One night as I lay upon my bed, I fell into a dream,
Some rugged paths I thought I trod, till a sheepfold I came;
Down by a brook, with scrip and crook, a youth I did espy
I asked his name from whence he came: he said a Shepherd's Boy.

The sheepfold being on a plain, near to a camp it lay,
The lovely lambs around their dam did fondly sport and play;
The fields were green, ail things there seem, to me did yield much joy,
 But nothing there I could compare to the young Shepherd's Boy.

He got a pack placed on his back, and a staff in his right hand:
This very day I must obey my father's just command:
I asked him where he was bound for, he made me a quick reply,
To yonder camp I must repair, although a Shepherd's Boy,

My brethren I must go and see, they're fighting for the King,
This very hour their hearts I'll cheer, glad tidings I'll them bring!
I asked him how he could get there, or climb yon mount so high,
Amark, said he, was left to me, to guide the Shepherd's Boy.

When he came into the camp, I saw a terrible sight,
Two armies there they did prepare for to renew the fight;
A man six cubits and a span his brethren did defy;
None in that place then dare him face but the young Shepherd Boy.

The King says this Goliath does fill our camp with awe,
Whosoever does this monster kill shall be my son-in-law;
Then I will go and lay him low, the youth he did reply,
Then go, he said, Lord be with thee my valiant Shepherd's Boy.

Then out of the brook five stones he took, and placed them in his scrip,
Undauntedly across the plain this gallant youth did trip;
At the first blow he laid him low, cut off his head forbye,
He dropped his sling, and they made a king, of the young Shepherd's Boy.

Now to conclude and finish this wondrous dream of mine,
There's not but he who is born free shall ever know the sign;
So fill your glass round let it pass, for I am getting dry,
And toast with me to the memory of the young Shepherd's Boy.

The Road to Dundee

The Road to Dundee

Cauld winter was howlin' o'er moor and o'er mountain
And wild was the surge of the dark rolling sea,
When I met about daybreak a bonnie young lassie,
Wha asked me the road and the miles to Dundee.

Says I 'My young lassie, I canna' weel tell ye,
The road and the distance I canna' weel gie,
But if you'll permit me tae gang a wee bittie,
I'll show you the road and the miles to Dundee.'

At once she consented, and gave me her arm,
Ne'er a word I did speir wha the lassie might be:
She appeared like an angel in feature and form,
As she walked by my side on the road to Dundee.

At length wi' the Howe o' Strathmartine behind us,
And the spires o' the toon in full view we could see;
She said, 'Gentle sir, I can never forget ye
For showing me so far on the road to Dundee.

This ring and this purse take to prove I am grateful,
And some simple token I trust ye'11 gie me,
And in times to come I'll remember the laddie
That showed me the road and the miles to Dundee.'

I took the gowd pin from the scarf on my bosom,
And said, 'Keep ye this in remembrance o' me',
Then bravely I kissed the sweet lips o' the lassie
Ere I parted wi' her on the road to Dundee.

So here's to the lassie I ne'er can forget her
And ilka young laddie that's listening tae me;
And never be sweer to convoy a young lassie,
Though it's only to show her the road to Dundee.

The Protestant Boys

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

  After the Stuarts were deposed, Lord Wharton, a strong supporter of King William III, boasted that he had "rhymed James out of three kingdoms" with his tune. otherwise known as Lilli Burlero *

The Pope's Brigade

The Pope's Brigade

To famed Spoileta they were took
To garrison that old town.
The Pope depended on their pluck
To put Sardinia down;
But when they saw King Vicot's men
The Pope's Brigade gave way;
They ran like pigs into their dens,
And threw their guns away.

Now Papists are no better still
Than they were in ninety-eight
They ran away at Vinegar Hill,
Likewise at Derry's gate.
They have disgraced their native home,
And now they're in the lurch;
Likewise betrayed the Pope of Rome
And holy mother Church

No to conclude and make an end,
We'll toast the King all round,
And Garabaldi and his men
That hero of renown.
We'll likewise toast the Orange cause,
So loyal and so true,
That to the end they may maintain.
The Orange and the Blue-

The Orangeman

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.

To God above we give the praise, With heart and hand we join,
To celebrate 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.


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.


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.


The Orange Lark

The Orange Lark

A song to the lark, the merry, merry lark;
He soars with a spirit's flight
Through the misty clouds that morning shrouds,
He flies to the fountain of light.
He is a true Orangebird, for when William the Third
Led his troops of the first of July,
The lark's merry song cheered the hero along
With melody down from the sky

Then a song to the lark, the merry merry lark,
Who loves in the blue air to swim:
He is the true Orangebird of William the Third,
For he sang him an Orange Hymn.

From his fluttering wings when the dewdrops he flings
They seem, as they glance to the earth
Like atoms of light in their downward flight,
Or sparkles of brilliant mirth.
As he soars into light from the mists of the night.
He's a type of the soul unconfin'd
Which burst through the clouds which the bigot, the proud
Wouldh ave cast o're the Protestant mind.


How sweet in the vale as the nightingale
Breathes his song to the gloomy stars;
Then the sentinel still encamped on the hill
Thinks of home far away from the wars.
But the lark, O for me, and his wild melody
Piping high like a martial fife;
Its music doth come to the soldier's drum
And quickens the springs of life.


The eagle, great bird is rapacious and proud
Too aristocratic for me
On his throne amidst the ricks human grandeur he mocks
Wrapt up in his royalty
But, O, take my word, the lark is the bird
For ture men wherever they be;
His home is the green earth the land of our birth
And his song is the song of the free.


The Orange Banner

The Orange Banner

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 honor!
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 honor!
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!

The Auld Orange Tree

The Auld Orange Tree

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

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

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.

The seed of this auld 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.

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.

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.

The Maid of Culmore

The Maid of Culmore

From sweet Londonderry, Oh, to fair London town,
There is no better harbour anywhere can be found,
Where the youngsters each evening are round the sea-shore.
And the joy bells are ringing for the maids of Culmore.

The first time I saw my love she passed me by,
And the next time I saw her she bade me goodbye,
And the third time I saw her she grieved my heart sore,
As she sailed down Lough Foyle and away from Culmore.

To the North parts of America I will go my love see,
Where I will know no one, oh, nor no one knows me,
And it's ifI don't find her I'll return back no more,
Like an exile I will wander from the maid of Culmore.

The Lea Rig

The Lea Rig 

When o'er the hill the eastern star
Tells bughtin time is near, my jo,
And owsen frae the furrow'd field
Return sae dowf and weary O;
Down by the burn, where birken buds
Wi' dew are hangin clear, my jo,
I'll meet thee on the lea-rig,
My ain kind Dearie O.

At midnight hour, in mirkest glen,
I'd rove, and ne'er be eerie, O,
If thro' that glen I gaed to thee,
My ain kind Dearie O;
Altho' the night were ne'er sae wild,
And I were ne'er sae weary O,
I'll meet thee on the lea-rig,
My ain kind Dearie O.

The hunter lo'es the morning sun;
To rouse the mountain deer, my jo;
At noon the fisher seeks the glen
Adown the burn to steer, my jo:
Gie me the hour o' gloamin' grey,
It maks my heart sae cheery O,
To meet thee on the lea-rig,
My ain kind Dearie O.

(The tune will be familiar to Orangemen everywhere The Lily'O')

The Landing at Torbay

The Landing at Torbay

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 rose upon the stormy waves our freedom 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 upon his natal day,
When he 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 if you'd fife 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 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.

The Ladies from Hell

Sergeant they've got me I've fallen
As the gunfire sprayed over the clay
Tell my Mother and Father I love them
Your war is over Young Private MacRae

As the dawn breaks we bury our comrades
And the winter s snow covers the lair
Tho  the TOS and the Tartan may wither
The badge will bear witness you re there

We salute you goodbye one last time
Rest in peace we must head for the line
With our rifles in hand we explore no-mans-land
Till the winter and darkness close in

In the still of the night, we move in for the fight
And freedom for our kith and kin
The Captain says this is the big one
We attack just before dawn

Defeat and destroy is our mission
And remember our lads who have gone
As the night slowly turns into day
The whistle blows then the pipes start to play

We re the Ladies from Hell,& the Royal Scots as well
With the boys from the border so fine
The Gordon s Bydand, the Queens Own Seaforth man
Fusiliers and Argyll s thin red line

The Battalions who stand side-by-side
Then victory cannot be denied

Sergeant when this war is over
And our Colours fly pinned in the ground
Will the pages of history tell us
Of the men who will never be found
But their names will forever live on and on and on and on 

We re the Ladies from Hell,& the Royal Scots as well
With the boys from the borders so fine
The Gordon s Bydand, the Queens Own Seaforth man
Fusiliers and Argyll s thin red line (x2)

For the boys left behind on the line
The Piper will play one more time

The Royal Regiment of Scotland
The Magnificent Seven
The Royal Scots and the Kings Own Scottish Borderers
The Royal Highland Fusiliers
The Black Watch
The Highlanders
The Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders
52nd Lowland
And 51st.Highland.

You can download the full version of this song by clicking the link below. The video above is a part sample as the full lyrics above indicate. It costs £1.99 and goes to help our troops
The Ladie's From Hell Download

The Faughan Side

The Faughan Side

A stream like crystal it runs down, As plainly may be seen:
It's there you'll find the Irish oak, Trimmed with the ivy green;

The shamrock, rose and thistle, The lily too beside,
All flourish there together, boys, Along the Faughan side.

Oh, could you see that lovely place, All in the summer time;
Each bush and tree, they look so gay; Each meadow in its prime;

The blackbird and the golden thrush, They tune their notes so gay;
But still I had the notion Of going to Ameri-cay.

Farewell unto this lovely place From it I mean to roam.
To leave my friends in Ireland, And my dear old Irish home.

 Farewell unto my comrades, And the place where they reside,
 For many a happy night we spent Along the Faughan side.

It's about two miles from Derry To the bridge of Drumahoe,
Where many a happy night we spent, In the days of long ago;

Where lambs do sport and fair maids court, And the small fish gently glide,
In the blooming spring the small birds sing Along the Faughan side.

The leaving of this lovely place, It grieves my heart full sore,
 And the leaving of my own true love, It grieves me ten times more;

But if ever I return again, I will make her my bride,
And I'll take her in my arms, boys, Along the Faughan side.

The 36th (Ulster) Brigade

The 36th (Ulster) Brigade

The cloud and mist that early morn
1916 when we sailed off to the Somme
Amid the laughter and the cheers
Who would notice all the doubts and tears and fears

But brave men all they sailed away
No death would beckon from beyond the battles fray
and through it all they'er not afraid
to fight with comrades of that 36th Brigade

Each of those brave men who fought and died
They followed Ulsters flag from Thiepval Wood with pride
and lift their heads with pride and say
I fought with Ulstermen on Flanders field that day

Now written down in history
Tales of their sacrifice that was made for liberty
and with their comrades they are laid
All Ulstermen of that famous 36th Brigade

They gave their lives for King and Country
The choice of freedom their reward for bravery
And they were told that all Ulstermen would be
forever part of this land they fought to free
and all the promises were made
to those brave men of that 36th Brigade

The Crimson Banner

Behold the crimson banner float
O'er yonder turret hoary;
It tells of days of mighty note
And Derry's deathless story
When her brave sons undaunted stood
Embattled to defend her,
Indignant stemmed oppressions flood
And sung out - "No Surrender!"

Oh heres to the boys that fear no noise
and never will Surrender
The gates we'el close against our foes
on the 18th of December


Old Derry's walls were firm and strong
Well fenced in every quarter
Each frowning bastion grim along
With culverin and mortar:
But Derry had a surer guard
Than all that art could lend her:
Her 'Prentice hearts the gates who barr'd
And sung out - "No Surrender!"


On came the foe, in bigot ire,
And fierce the assault was given,
By shot and shell, 'mid streams of fire,
Her fated roof was riven;
But baffled was the tyrant's wrath,
And vain his hopes to bend her,
For still, 'mid famine, fire and death,
And sung out - "No Surrender!"


Again when treason madden'd round,
And rebel hordes were swarming,
Were Derry's sons the foremost found,
For King and country arming.
And forth they rush'd at honor's call,
From age to boyhood tender,
Again to man their virgin wall,
And sing out - "No Surrender!"


Long may the crimson banner wave,
A meteor streaming airy,
Portentious of the free and brave,
Who guard the walls of Derry;
And Derry's sons alike defy
Pope, traitor or pretender
And peal to Heaven the 'Prentice cry
Their patriot - "No Surrender!"