Patriotically Come all you gallant Irish lads wherever you may be; I hope you'll pay attention and listen unto me. I hope you'll pay attention, lads, no matter where you dwell. It's of a brave young hero the truth to you I'll tell.
I hope you'll all be patient, lads, while I the truth unfold Concerning this young hero who was valiant, brave and bold. So sit back, Jack, and just relax and listen to my song. It's something strange and tragical; it won't detain you long.
You toilers of the nation, I hope you will draw near. A new and strange narration I mean to let you hear. 'Tis for your information I take my pen in hand, And long before I've finished, I hope you'll understand.
Men of honest labour who stand in Freedom's name, Go rouse up your neighbour and put the world to shame. You valiant sons of valiant men wherever you are found, Just give an ear and you shall hear, if you will gather round.
'Twas early morning in the springtime of the year. No cloud was hanging in the sky. The sun it did shine clear. The funeral drums their note did sound high o'er the hills around, And Erin wept to see her son laid in the grassy ground.
Go where you will o'er vale and hill, past mountains short and tall, You'll hear this toast: He was the most to his neighbours one and all. So honour him in story, in song and poetry, With those who've gone before he'll take his place in history.
So praise God, all you Protestants; be humble while you may, And likewise all good Catholics, and do not you dismay. He held the standard proudly and he died for Ireland's cause, Upholding all that we hold dear -- religion, truth and laws.
So let's rejoice with heart and voice. We knew our comrade dear. His heart is stilled and yet his spirit lives another year. I thank you for your courtesy in listening to my lay. Farewell, you gallant comrades, now until another day.
OPTIONAL EXTRA (as the washing-machine salesmen say) Now eight months being over, the night one coming on, We've got a true perspective on this gallant Irishman. His story we've considered and between those hallowed walls, Though we would only whisper it, it sounds a load of...
Notes: The line "Come all you gallant mariners/shopwalkers/computer engineers..." or what-have-youse is folk song's commonest curtain raiser. Its only real purpose is to get the audience quiet before you begin to unfold the story. One night, I found I had to sing three verses of throw-away lines before I could get hush and, when I mentioned this to Eric Winter on one occasion, it set us thinking that there must be somewhere a prototypical martyr ballad consisting of all the best introductory and closing lines. Together, Eric and I produced this masterpiece, this do-it-yourself song kit that needs only the name of your favourite hero to be inserted at strategic places.