Shutting the Gates of Derry

Shutting the Gates of Derry

Full many a long wild winter's night, And sultry summer's day
Are past and gone since James took flight, From Derry Walls away;
Cold are the hands that closed the gate Against the wily foe;
But here, to Time's remotest date Their spirit still shall glow.
So here's a health to all good men Now fearless friends are few;
But when we close our gates again, We'll then be all True Blue.

Lord Antrim's men came down yon glen, With drums and trumpets gay;
Our 'Prentice Boys just heard the noise And then prepared for play;
While some opposed, the gates they closed, And joining hand in hand,
Before the wall resolved to fall Or for their freedom stand.
When honour calls to Derry's Walls,
The noble and the brave
Oh! he that in the battle falls Must find a hero's grave.

Then came the hot and doubtful fray, With many a mortal wound; While thousands, in wild war's array Stood marshalled all around.
Each hill and plain was strewed with slain, The Foyle ran red with blood;
But all was vain the town to gain ­Here William's standard stood.
Renowned are those who face their foes, As men and heroes should;
And let the slave steal to his grave Who fears to shed his blood.

The matchless deeds of those who hear Defied the Tyrant's frown,
In History's bright rolls appear, Emblazoned in renown:
Here deathless Walker's faithful word, Sent hoots against the foe
And gallant Murray's bloody sword, The Gallic chief laid low.
We honour those heroic dead Their glorious memory,
May we, who stand here in their stead, As wise and valiant be.

Oh! sure a heart of stone would melt The scenes once here to see And witness all our fathers felt, To make their country free They saw the lovely matron's cheek With want and terror pale - They heard their child's expiring shriek Float on the passing gale! Yet here they stood, in fire and blood, As battle raged around Resolved to die - till victory Their purple standard crowned.

The sacred rights these heroes gained In many a hard fought day, Shall they by us be still maintained, Or basely cast away?
Shall rebels vile rule o'er our isle, And call it all their own?
Oh surely no! the faithless foe, Must bend before the Throne.
Then here's a health to all good men, To all good men and true;
And when we close our gates again, We'll then be all True Blue.