Traitors of Ireland
Come all ye sons of Erin who are good Irishmen,
And listen to a tale of English craft;
LeCaron, we are told, sold himself for English gold
And Piggot is a forger, so they say.
You all have heard of late how they tried to implicate
Our patriots with dynamite and fire;
But where their game does fail they'll be thrust into jail,
And vengeance then will follow swift and sure.
Then hurrah for Charles Parnell; let us our duties do well,
For old Ireland has informers and new foes,
ON Erin's distant shores Saxon wolves are at the doors,
With Pigott and LeCaron in sheep's clothes.
Those libels in the Times are all traitor's lies
They're words that stir the hearts of Irishmen;
But Charles Pasrnell's not a fool to jeopardize Home Rule
By letting treason come from his great pen.
It's all an English ruse our patriots to abuse,
To send them all to dungeons dark and cold;
But where's the English sense in Piggot's evidence?
He'll answer for the perjured lies he told.
Now LeCarron wants to say that he once was in the pay
Of the great and patriotic Clann-na-Gael;
But we know he took no part for he owns a coward's heart
And no member of our clan was known to fail.
In the year of '62 its known to be quite true
That Beach was sent to jail for mutiny;
He wants now to decoy brave men like John Devoy
Charles Parnell, Patrick Egan and O'Shea.