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?"

Though we've cursed the name of England: though in faith
and blood we're aliens:
Though we're bred to hate the Union as an Irishman should do--
Yet we're shoulder still to shoulder in the Englishman's battalions,