Oh, loyal Orange breth-er-en.
I pray you act as Christlan men,
And, should your spleen arise, count ten
Before you speak.
Nay, bear me, brothers, I beseech.
Refrain from all un-Christian speech
Remember! He, whose Word we preach,
Was ever week.
The lazy, low Italian,
The cheating, shifty Mexican
All Papist creatures to a man;
Avid brutes at that
The scum that Rome's base agents skim
With mummery from ages dim.
Dear brothers, let us sing a n'ymn,
And pass the bat.
Oh, Orangemen, I cannot find
Words to express my state of mind
Fit epithets to name the kind
Of brutish man
Who takes the word of Popery
Concerning dim eternity.
But, brothers, let us ever be
Ker-is-ti-an.
Then, look upon the Irish too
A miserable murd'rous crew!
They'll feed you up on Irish stew,
Then cut your throat.
And - it is truth that I allege
They'll shoot you from behind a hedge
Dear brothers, recollect your pledge,
And peace promote.
Oh, loyal, loving, Orangemen,
Be tolerant and kindly when
You preach about your fellow men.
E'en as I be.
Be ever mild and circumspect.
(A curse on all the Popish sect!)
And brothers, brothers, recollect
Sweet Charity.