Then let us cherish, wise and free,
King William's glorious memory,
And never may that man grow older,
Who flings the bumper o'er his shoulder.

Sires of William's Glorious Reign.

Genius of Erin's Emerald Isle,

In all thy ancient glory rise!

And teach thy sons at death to smile,

While this proud strain ascends the skies:

"Sires of William's glorious reign,

"Triumph in your sons again."

Awake, true sons of Erin, wake,

Attend your King and country's call, Beneath your bands shall treason shake, Beneath your arms shall treason fall! "Sires of William's glorious reign, "In their sons shall fight again."

Hark! down the Boyne's immortal flood, Flows this sublime triumphant sound, Where, like yon column, firm they stood, Till victory's self their virtues crowned: "Sires of William's glorious reign, "Bid their sons their right maintain,"

Hark! how from Aughrim's blood-stained field

Stained with the blood that warms your heart-
The shades of those who ne'er could yield,
Thus prompt the patriot's awful part:
"Sires of William's glorious reign,

“Trust their sons to guard this plain."
And, hark! from Derry's sacred walls,
That spurned the tyrant at their feet,
A guardian voice conspiring calls,
And Derry's sons the strains repeat:

"Sires of William's glorious reign,
"Guard in us, these walls again."

Again shall Enniskillen pour

Her heroes, for their rights to die;
Before them, as in days of yore,

Shall traitors, tyrants, Frenchmen, fly:
"Sires of William's glorious reign,
"Fought not for their sons in vain."

The men of Erin catch the flame,
The spirit of the Isle 's abroad;
They pant to share their fathers' fame,
Like them, in war or death unawed:

"Sires of William's glorious reign,
"Ne'er can call their sons in vain."

While vanquished Erin. While vanquished Erin weeps beside

The Boyne's triumphant river,

The guardian spirits of its tide
This lesson still shall give her:

In vain you speed your vengeful darts,
Though poisoned gall is on them,
For God (who shields his faithful hearts,)
Shall grant us still to shun them.

Oh! long shall Erin weep in vain,
As time so oft has taught her,
Though careless she returns again,
And hovers on that water,

And sounds with rancour'd, poisoned breath]
Her shafts of defamation;

Still fraught with vengeance, hate and death, As emblems of her station.

Each year as vanquish'd, she shall mourn, By that immortal river,

Its faithful guardians still return,

This bitter draught to give her:
Propitious shine, ye powers of good,
And crown this day for ever;
And may the Boyne's triumphant flood
Resign its glories never.

Then proudly flow till time is o'er,
And sacred be thy water;

For freedom gilds thy favoured shore,

And dearly have we bought her;
And while her bright and glorious ray,
Shall beam on us for ever,

The hearts that she has linked this day,
No fate or time shall sever.

The Orange Lily.

And did you go to see the show, each rose and pink-adilly, O!

To feast your eyes, and view the prize, won by the Orange Lily, O!

Heigho, the lily, O!

The royal, loyal lily, O!

Beneath the sky

What flower can vie

With Erin's Orange Lily, O!

The Viceroy there, so debonaire, just like a daffadilly, O, With Lady Clarke, blithe as a lark, approached the

Orange Lily, O,

Heigho, &c.

Then starting back, he cried, good lack! some say he looked quite silly, O!

"Oh! deed of woe! must I bestow, the prize upon the

lily, O!"

Heigho, &c.

Sir Charley, too, looked very blue, while laughed Horse

Master Billy, O,

To think his Ex

Orange lily, O!

a flower should vex; and that an

Heigho, &c.

A fairer flower, throughout the bower, he sought but

willy, nilly, O,

Orange Lily, O!

With moistened eyes, he gave the prize to Erin's

Heigho, &c.

The lowland field may roses yield, gay heaths the high. land hilly, O;

But high or low, no flower can show, like Erin's Orange Lily, O!

Heigho, &c.

Let dandies fine in Bond-street shine, gay nymphs in

Piccadilly, O,

But fine or gay must yield the day to Erin's Orange

Lily, O!

Heigho, &c.

The elated muse, to hear the news, jumped like a Connaught filly, O,

As gossip Fame did loud proclaim, the triumph of the

lily, O!

Heigho, &c.

Then come, brave boys, and share her joys, and toast the health of Willy, O,

Who bravely won on Boyne's red shore, the royal Orange Lily, O!

Heigho, the lily, O!

The Royal Orange Lily, O!

Fair Freedom's flower!

May each kind power,

Protect the Orange Lily, O!

On the Death of the Rev. George Walker.

b;

Thou art gone to the grave, but we will not deplore thee, Though sorrow and darkness encompass the tomb The Saviour has passed through the portals before thee, And the lamp of his love is thy guide through the gloom.