Come all ye scholars saints and bards,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Will ye come and join the Irish Guards,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Ah, what is all the fuss about,
Says the grand old dame Britannia,
Is it us you are trying to live without,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Oh, don’t believe them Sinn Fein lies,
And every Gael that for England dies,
Will enjoy ‘³ÉÈË¿ìÊÖ Rule’ 'neath the Irish skies,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Johnny Redmond has the battle won,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
He has finished what Wolfe Tone begun,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Though Shinners through the country stalk,
They praise sixty-seven and Bachelors Walk,
Did you ever hear such foolish talk,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Now you’ll want a lot of pounds from me,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
For your old Hibernian Academy,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
But first I’ve got the Hun to quell,
And I need my gold for shot and shell,
And your artists all can go to hell,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Now Johnny Redmond you’re the one,
You went to the front and you fired a gun,
Well you should have seen them Germans run,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
But if you dare to tread on the German’s feet,
You’ll find a package tied up neat,
A ³ÉÈË¿ìÊÖ Rule badge and a winding sheet,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Come all ye scholars saints and bards,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
Will ye come and join the Irish Guards,
Says the grand old dame Britannia.
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