From Samuel Lever's The O'Donoghue, a song described as being to a tune "very like the Cruiskeen Lawhen", and sung by a French smuggler in Kerry towards the end of the 18th century - it's first said that in the French manner, he sounds the final 'e' each time like an 'a' so it's "La Contrabanda" in pronunciation:

LA CONTRABANDE
A bumper, “mes enfans,” to swallow your care,
A full bumper, we pledge, “a L'Irlande;”
The land of “belles femmes” —le pays de bonne chere,
“Et toujours de la Contrabande.”

Some like to make love, and some like to make war,
Some of beauty obey “la commande;”
But what is a glance from an eye, “bleu,” or “noir,”
Except it be, “la Contrabande.”

When a prince takes the cash that a peasant can't spare,
And lets him lie down “sur la lande;”
Call it, as you like—but the truth is, I swear,
“C'est bien pire que—la Contrabande.”

Stolen kisses are ever the sweetest, we're told,
They sink like a “navire qui fende;”
And what's true of a kiss, is the same, too, of gold,
They're both, in their way, “Contrabande!”

When kings take your money, they won't even say,
“Mon ami le Dieu vous le rende;”
While even the priest, for a blessing takes pay,
“C'est partout et toujours, Contrabande.”

The good things of life are not equal, I'm sure,
Then, how pleasant to make the “amende;”
To take from the wealthy, and give to the poor,
“Voila! que j'appelle, Contrabande.”

Yet, as matters go, one must not deem it strange,
That even “La France et L'Irlande,”
If good wishes and friendship they simply exchange,
There are folks who call that, “Contrabande.”

“Vive la Contrabande, mes amis!”