SONG. THE PATRIOT YOUTH. Tune,—"DONALD BRANN."

Gallant nation foes no more, Gen'rous Irish hail the day, When from Hibernia's cultur'd shore We chace tyrannic power away. Tol, lol, &c.

Late a band of patriots rose, Firm in Freedom's glorious cause; Feeble slaves in vain oppose Rights secur'd by equal laws. Tol, lol, &c.

Verdant myrtles deck their brows, Branchy leaves their blades entwine, While, like us, they pay their vows To each Patriot Hero's shrine. Tol, lol, &c.

Martial youths in Ireland bred, Kindled with cogenial zeal, Freedom's path resolv'd to tread, Jealous of the public weal. Tol, lol, &c.

Should tyrannic power again Raise its hydrae head on high, Welcome then the hostile plain, Freemen, dauntless, dare to die! Tol, lol, &c.

Verdant myrtles, branchy pride, Shall their thirsty blades entwine; No, gen'rous youth be not dismay'd, The Rights of Man you'll ne'er resign. Tol, lol, &c.