Fields of Ulster

Oh father, dear father
Why are the fields so green
Oh no my son, Oh no my son
It’s not the way it seems
In our dear land from end to end
Though sometimes seldom shows
In every field of Ulster soil
The Orange Lily grows.

The Fields of Ulster
The Fields of Ulster
The good Lord ploughed and sowed
The Fields of Ulster
The Fields of Ulster
Where the Orange Lily grows.

That safest hour, darkest hour
The emblem of our faith
Was worn across the century
By Ulster soldiers brave
Its debt is spreading far and wide
Until the whole world knows
In every field of Ulster soil
The Orange Lily grows.

The Fields of Ulster
The Fields of Ulster
The good Lord ploughed and sowed
The Fields of Ulster
The Fields of Ulster
Where the Orange Lily grows.

Oh father, dear father
Take heart and be of cheer
I’m off to join that gallant band
The Ulster Volunteers
For as long as Derry’s walls still stand
And the River Boyne still flows
In every field of Ulster soil
The Orange Lily grows.

The Fields of Ulster
The Fields of Ulster
The good Lord ploughed and sowed
The Fields of Ulster
The Fields of Ulster
Where the Orange Lily grows.

The Royal South Down Militia

Composed by Bro. Colonel R. H. Wallace, C.B., D.L.

I belong to a noble regiment, whose deeds are often told,
For on the field of battle they are always brave and bold;
They’ve ioyal hearts as well, as true as any steel,
And the place they show their bravery is on the battlefield.

For ye talk about your King’s Guards, Scots Greys, and a
Ye may sing about your kilties and the bonny Forty-Twa,
And of eu’ry other regiment under the King’s command,
But the South Down mileeshy is the terror of the land.

Och, boys, but it was grand when we in action first did join,
Along with noble William at the Battle of the Boyne.
Says King James, “I’ll take the first train home, ‘tis more than I can stand,
For them South Down Mileeshy is the terror of the land.”

For ye talk about your King’s Guards, Scots Greys, and a
Ye may sing about your kilties and the bonny Forty-Twa,
And of eu’ry other regiment under the King’s command,
But the South Down mileeshy is the terror of the land.

And when we were at Salisbury, in the year of Sev’nty-two,
The Queen of Spain and Duke was there to see the grand review;
“Och bloody wars”, the Queen remarked, and waved her lily hand,
“Them South Down Mileeshy is the terror of the land.”

For ye talk about your King’s Guards, Scots Greys, and a
Ye may sing about your kilties and the bonny Forty-Twa,
And of eu’ry other regiment under the King’s command,
But the South Down mileeshy is the terror of the land.

Now, there’s French, and Turks, and Prooshians, and brave Italians too,
There’s Greeks and Ancient Romans, not forgetting the Zulu;
But from Greenland’s icy mountains to Injy’s coral strand,
Och, the South Down Mileeshy is the terror of the land.

For ye talk about your King’s Guards, Scots Greys, and a
Ye may sing about your kilties and the bonny Forty-Twa,
And of eu’ry other regiment under the King’s command,
But the South Down mileeshy is the terror of the land.

Now at the Jubilee the Irish Rifles marched by;
Her Majesty observed them with a keen and martial eye.
“Och Major Wallace”, says the Queen, “Them boys of yours looks grand.”
“Och hould your tongue”, says Wolseley, “Thim’s the terror of the land.”

For ye talk about your King’s Guards, Scots Greys, and a
Ye may sing about your kilties and the bonny Forty-Twa,
And of eu’ry other regiment under the King’s command,
But the South Down mileeshy is the terror of the land.

When Kruger heard the regiment was landed at Capetown,
“De Wet”, says he, “we’re bate.” Says he “They’ve sent out the South Downs.”
Says De Wet, “If that’s a fact, me son, we’d better quit the Rand,
For them South Down Militia is the terror of the land.”

For ye talk about your King’s Guards, Scots Greys, and a
Ye may sing about your kilties and the bonny Forty-Twa,
And of eu’ry other regiment under the King’s command,
But the South Down mileeshy is the terror of the land.