Honest Pat

HIBERNIA's Sons, with hearts elate, Who hate despotic slavery; Now join with us, the cause is great, Display your Irish brav'ry— To crush those knaves that us enslaves, Our guns shall roar like thunder, And let them see that we'll not be, By tyrants long kept under.

Old Granua groans, laments and moans Sore goaded by oppressors; We are her Sons, the only ones Can be her sole redressors;— She loudly calls to one and all, To cut her chains asunder— Her tyrants hear and greatly fear That us they can't keep under.

To miss this time would be a crime, Whilst Europe is affrighted; With warlike rage, now is the age To see our country righted. A thing tyrannic, struck by PAT, To dust shall moulder under; The hero's feet shall trample it— For us they shan't keep under.

No Statesman great, Priest or Prelate, Shall stop our bold conceptions; When we are join'd, with firmness bound, We'll baffle their deceptions. A bill of woe, by the junto, Has passed through the House quick, For to defil Hibernia's Isle, And bind down honest PATRICK.