The Boys of Mullaghbawn

The Boys of Mullaghbawn

On a Monday morning early as my wand'ring steps did lead meDown by a farmer's station thro' meadow and green lawn;I heard great lamentation as the small birds they were warbling,Saying, we'll have not more engagements with the Boys of Mullaghbawn.

Esquire Jackson he's unequalled for honour and for reason.He never turned traitor nor betrayed the rights of man;But now we are in danger by a vile deceiving strangerWho has ordered transportation for the Boys of Mullaghbawn.

As those heroes crossed the ocean, I'm told the ship in motionWould stand in wild commotion as if the seas ran dry:The trout and salmon gaping as the Cuckoo left the stationSaying 'Farewell to lovely Erin and the hills of Mullaghbawn.'

To end my lamentation, we are all in consternation,For want of education I here must end my theme,None cares for recreation, since, without considerationWe are sent for transportation from the hills of Mullaghbawn.