(_Latest Ulsterical Version._)
The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone,
By the Belfast road he's coming;
His Party sword he has girded on
And his wild harp loud he's thrumming.
"Land of bulls!" said the warrior bard,
"Though GLADSTONE'S gang betrays thee,
_One_ sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
_One_ faithful harp shall praise thee!"
The Minstrel's loud--though a little late;
What he hopes to gain some wonder;
But he swears that harp shall preserve the State,
Which his foes would rend asunder.
He shouts, "Home Rule shall not sully thee,
Ulster, thou soul of bravery!
I'll harp wild war, aye, from sea to sea,
Ere the Loyalists stoop to slavery!"