There is a version of this in the DT, taken, I assume, from the singing of Dick Gaughan, but it has numerous small differences from this published version.

From Vagabond Songs and Ballads of Scotland edited by Robert Ford (Paisley: Alexander Gardner, 1899), page 47:


ERIN-GO-BRAGH

My name's Duncan Campbell, from the shire of Argyle.
I have travelled this country for many a mile.
I have travelled through England and Ireland and a',
And the name I go under's bold Erin-go-Bragh.

One night in Auld Reekie, as I walked down the street,
A saucy policeman by chance I did meet.
He glowered in my face and he gave me some jaw,
Saying, "When came ye over, bold Erin-go-Bragh?"

"I am not a Paddy, though Ireland I've seen,
Nor am I a Paddy, though in Ireland I've been;
But though I were a Paddy, that's nothing ava.
There's many a bold hero from Erin-go-Bragh."

"I know you are a Pat by the cut of your hair,
But you all turn Scotchmen as soon's you come here.
You have left your own country for breaking the law.
We are seizing all stragglers from Erin-go-Bragh."

"Though I were a Paddy, and you knew it to be true,
Or were I the devil—pray, what's that to you?
Were it not for the baton you have in your paw,
I would show you a game played in Erin-go-Bragh."

Then a switch of blackthorn that I held in my fist
Across his big body I made it to twist;
And the blood from his napper I quickly did draw,
And paid him stock and interest for Erin-go-Bragh.

The people came round like a flock of wild geese,
Crying, "Stop, stop the rascal; he has killed the police;"
And for every friend I had, I'm sure he had twa.
It was very tight times with bold Erin-go-Bragh.

But I came to a wee boat that sails on the Forth.
I picked up my all, and I steered for the North.
Farewell to Auld Reekie, policeman and a'.
May the devil be with them, says Erin-go-Bragh.

Now, all you brave fellows that listen to my song,
I don't care a farthing to where you belong.
I come from Argyle, in the Highlands so braw,
But I ne'er take it ill when called Erin-go-Bragh.

Not an Irish song this, as the title would make the novice infer. But natives of the Western Highlands and Islands of Scotland have a good deal in common—in accent and otherwise—with the people of the North of Ireland, and the verses describe only how "Duncan Campbell, from the Shire of Argyle," suffered in Edinburgh in the "No Irish need apply" days by being mistaken for a son of Saint Patrick. Many will recognise the song as an old and common favourite in Scotland.