A shepherd who live on Slieve Gullion came down to the Co. Tyrone,
And told us how Redmond O'Hanlon won't let the rich Saxon alone;
He rides over moorland and mountain, by night till a stranger is found,
Saying "Take your own choice for a lodging, right over or under the ground.
If you whistle out "Whoo" like a native he leaves you the way to go
If you squeeze out a "Hew" like a Scotsman you'll pay him a guinea a year
But if you cry "Haw" like a Saxon, och, then 'tis your life or your gold
By stages Count Redmond O'Hanlon gets back what was pilfered of old.
Old Coote of Cootehill is hearbroken, and Johnson beyond in the Fews
Has wasted eight barrels of powder upon him but all to no use,
Although there's £400 sterling if Redmond you'd put out of sight
Mind, if the heart's dark in your body 'tis Redmond will let in the light.
The great Duke of Ormond is frantic, his soldiers get up with the lark
To catch this bold Redmond by daylight, But Redmond caught them in the dark.
Says he, when he stripped them and bound them, "Take back my best thanks to his grace.
For all the fine pistols and powder he sent to this desolate place."
Then here's to you Redmond O'Hanlon, long may your excellency reign
High ranger of woods & of rivers, surveyor of mountain & plain!
Examiner in chief of all raitors, protector of all that are true.
Henceforward, King Charlie of England may take what he gets, after you.