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 | Ballads of Irish chivalry |  |
247
WILLY BRAND.
I
My love is come of English blood,And was my father's foe;
But now he's all for Ireland's good
As once for Ireland's woe;
And now he's leal and true as steel
When war is in the land;
So aye through blame, and oh! through shame,
I'll love my Willy Brand.
II
My love he is a soldier free,So stately and so tall,
With armour shining gloriously,
And sword, and plume, and all;
With horseman's shoon and musquetoon
He rides by tower and strand,
And aye through blame, and oh! through shame,
I'll love my Willy Brand.
III
My love has drawn his gallant swordFor Ireland's cause and king,
Black Cromwell with his blood-stained horde
Of traitors back to fling;
And may God speed each man and steed
The dark foe to withstand,
While aye through blame, and oh! through shame,
I'll love my Willy Brand.
248
IV
Each day she waited by the hillHer Willy Brand's return,
And still the same through woe and ill
Her love for him did burn:
And back love gave her soldier brave
When peace swayed o'er the land;
For aye through blame, and oh! through shame,
She loved her Willy Brand!
| Ballads of Irish chivalry | |