Classic Poem

Ho, brother Teague, dost hear de decree,
Lilli burlero, bullen a-la;
Dat we shall have a new debittie,
Lilli burlero, bullen a-la,
Lero lero, lero lero, lilli burlero, bullen a-la;
Lero lero, lero lero, lilli burlero, bullen a-la.

Ho, by my shoul, it is a Talbot,
And he will cut de Englishman's troat.

Though, by my shoul, de English do prat,
De law's on dare side, and Chreist knows what.

But if dispense do come from de pope,
Weel hang Magno Cart and demselves on a rope.

And the good Talbot is made a lord,
And he with brave lads is coming aboard.

Who'll all in France have taken a swear,
Dat day will have no Protestant heir.

Oh, but why does he stay behind,
Ho, by my shoul, 'tis a Protestant wind.

Now Tyrconnel is come a-shore,
And we shall have commissions gillore.

And he dat will not go to mass,
Shall turn out and look like an ass.

Now, now, de heretics all go down,
By Chreist and St. Patrick, the nation's our own!