They have differed at times on the theme of Repeal
    (As I gather from platform and press),
  And the language they used in their patriot zeal
    Was intended to wound and distress: 
  But at last they are joined by a brotherly love,
    And his anger the patriot sinks,
  For his eloquence now is directed to prove
    That he ought not to pay for his drinks.

  There were times when the payment that landlords demand
    Was a source of continual woe,
  When the tenant preferred to adhere to his land,
    And the agent preferred him to go: 
  When their claims to adjust and the balance to strike
    Was a riddle to baffle the Sphinx,—­
  But they’re reconciled now, by resolving alike
    That they never will pay for their drinks.

  There’s an influence soft, which has calmed and assuaged
    The contentions of Orange and Green: 
  It has silenced the wars that were formerly waged
    In Committee Room Number Fifteen: 
  For in Cork and Belfast they’re united at last
    By the strongest and surest of links,
  And together they go for the Sassenach foe
    Who has asked them to pay for their drinks!

JUSTICE FOR PRIVATE MULVANEY

  There’s a gentleman called Doolan with an eloquence would charm ye
    When he talks of shooting landlords and of peaceful themes like that: 
  But I’d like to undesave him on the subject of the Army—­
    Sure the things he says about us are the idlest kind of chat! 
  We are all (says he) seditious, and the most of us is Fenians: 
    (And it’s true I am a Fenian when I find meself at home:)
  But he says we’re that devoted to our patriot opinions
    That we would not face the foeman when the marching orders come!

  Is it that way, Misther Doolan, that you’d see your country righted? 
    Troth, to many in the Service ’twill be information new
  That they’d lave the flag they followed and betray
          the faith they plighted
    To be comrades and companions of a gentleman like you! 
  Tisn’t mutiny and treason will make Ireland e’er a nation: 
    No, we never yet were traitors, though we’re rebels now and then! 
  For your country’s name to tarnish and disgrace her reputation—­
    Faith! it may be “patriotic,” but it isn’t fit for men.

  Would we shame those valiant Irishmen, the lads of Meath and Mallow,
    Them that fought with Moore and Beresford through many a hard campaign,
  Men that dared the Saxon follow, with a roaring “Faugh-a-ballagh,”
    And that shed their blood like water on the stricken fields of Spain? 
  Would we shame our bold companions and the land, the land that bore us,
    And the gallant boys that led us, and the rattling days we’ve seen,
  When we drove the foe before us with the “Shan Van Voght” in chorus,
    And we stormed his mountain stronghold to “The Wearing of the Green?”