The Blackman's Making Song

One night I left my native home, to my lodgeroom I went,
My brethren all were sitting there, and seemed to be content.
Soon one request I asked of them, if they would grant to me,
Another step along the road that leads to liberty.

When I began the mount to climb — Mount Horeb was its name —
I saw a bush was burning, just in a mighty flame;
When I beheld the mighty blaze, I knew not what to say,
I then went to Mount Carmel, like old prophets, for to pray.

And when my prayers were ended, out of the East did rise,
A little cloud like a man’s hand, which did me much surprise.
The next demand was made to me, my chariot to prepare.
With speed I drove along the way like eagles in the air.

Then went I to Golgotha — went to drink a health to all,
The toast went round, my name was found, sirs, brethren we are all.
Then straight to Jericho I went, so Joshua gave command,
It was my business when there to view the promised land.

And soon the king sent after me, all for to take my life,
And a woman did preserve me, that was neither maid nor wife.
‘Twas out of a window, with a scarlet thread let down,
And went straight unto a garden, and there my brethren found.

Now to conclude and finish, keep Joseph in your mind,
Through all your weary travels you left him not behind;
I’m sure he was a man of God, he interpreted the king’s dream.
I wish you all true brethren ever steady to remain.

Sham Fight at Scarva, 13th July

One night as I lay on my bed I thought that I would try
To write a few loyal verses The Thirteenth of July.

In Scarva town, of high renown, That place I hold most dear,
The Grand Sir Knight of Israel’s camp Do meet there once a year.

To the memory of King William All loyal men do join,
To see King James defeated At the Battle of the Boyne.

A Sham Fight there takes place In memory of the day
That we freed from Popery And gained our liberty.

With Bands and Banners marching Through Buller’s fair Demesne,
And loyal sisters join with us, And each year do the same.

Here’s to Sir Knight Sir Norman Stronge That man of high renown,
Long may he lead the Grand Sir Knights Through Scarva’s loyal town.

With the Churches on the hill And the Orange Hall by the lane,
That leads the Grand Procession Through Scarva’s fine Demesne.

Now ye loyal Sons of Scarva, One thousand R.B.P.,
Remember your forefathers That fought for liberty.

You always make us welcome, Let it be wet or dry,
For the great historic Sham Fight On the Thirteenth of July.

May you always still remember, That place of noted fame,
So join with the Grand Sir Knights Through Buller’s fair Demesne.

With Banbridge town and Portadown And Tandragee so fair,
And Newry with their colours bright, Blow proudly in the air.

And Markethill, with a free will, Together with us join
In memory of that day King William crossed the Boyne.

Now I’ll bid farewell to Scarva men, All honour to them due,
To R.B.P. One Thousand, Of Gideon’s Chosen Few.

Now to the Buller family —I cannot pass them by —
The gates are opened wide to them For the Thirteenth of July.

The Black Man's Dream, A.D. 1795

One night I thought a vision brough
Me to a spacious plain,
Whereon its centre stood a mount,
Whose top I wished to gain;
Orange, blue, and purple, too,
Were given me to wear,
And for to see the mystery
They did me thus prepare.

My guide a pack placed on my back —
With pillars of an arch —
A staff and scrip placed in my hand,
And thus I on did march;
Through desert lands I travelled o’er
And the narrow road I trod,
Till something did obstruct my path
In the form of a toad.

So then I saw what did me awe,
Though wandering in a dream —
A flaming bush, though unconsumed,
Before me did remain;
And as I stood out of the wood
I heard a heavenly sound,
Which bade me cast my shoes away,
For it was holy ground.

Two men I saw, with weapons keen,
Which did me sore annoy —
Unto a pyramid I ran
That standing was hard by;
And as I climbed the narrow way,
A hand I there did see,
Which layed the lofty mountains
In the scale of equity.

Blue, gold, and black about my neck,
This apparition placed —
Into a chariot I was put,
Where we drove off in haste
Twelve dazzling lights of beauty bright
Were brought to guide my way,
And as we drove thro’ cypress shades
One of them did decay.

Near to a mount I saw a fount
Of living water flow
I being dry, they did reply,
To drink you there may go;
The mystic cup I then took up,
And drank a health to all
That were born free and kept their knee
From bowing unto Baal.

The Shepherd's Boy

“From my earliest days “The Shepherd’s Boy” has been the song which appeals to me most. Long before I joined the Royal Black Institution the Biblical history of David, with all his strengths and a few weaknesses, seemed to convey a special message. It continues to provide inspiring texts for many a sermon, and the lessons are there for laymen too. David’s confrontation with Goliath has a special message for us at the present time. When the Goliaths of wickedness threaten to sweep all before them, we are reminded just how frail is the arm of flesh compared with the power of God.”
Past Sovereign Grand Master (Royal Black Institution) Sir Knight J. H. Molyneaux, ,J.P., M.P.

One night as I lay on my bed, I fell into a dream,
Some rugged paths I thought I trod, till a sheepfold I came;
Down by a brook, with scrip and crook, a youth I did espy.
I asked his name, from whence he came : he said, a Shepherd’s Boy.

The Sheepfold being on a plain, near to a camp it lay,
The lovely lambs around their dams did fondly sport and play;
The fields were green, all things there seen, to me did yield much joy,
But nothing there I could compare to the young Shepherd’s Boy.

He got a pack placed on his back, and a staff in his right hand;
This very day I must obey my father’s just command;
I asked him where he was bound for, he made me a quick reply,
To yonder camp I must repair, although a Shepherd’s Boy.

My brethren I must go and see, they’re fighting for the King,
This very hour their hearts I’ll cheer, glad tidings I’ll them bring;
I asked him how he could get there, or climb yon mount so high,
A mark, said he, was left to me, to guide the Shepherd’s Boy.

When he came into the camp I saw a terrible sight,
Two armies there they did prepare for to renew the fight;
A man six cubits and a span his brethren did defy;
None in that place then dare him face but the young Shepherd’s Boy.

The King says, this Goliath does fill our camp with awe,
Whosoever does this monster kill shall be my son-in-law;
Then I will go and lay him low, the youth he did reply.
Then go, says he, Lord be with thee, my valiant Shepherd’s Boy.

Then out of the brook five stones he took, and placed them in his scrip,
Undauntedly across the plain this gallant youth did trip;
At the first blow he laid him low, cut off his head forbye,
He dropped his sling, and they made a king of the young Shepherd’s Boy.

Now to conclude and finish this wondrous dream of mine,
There’s none but he who is born free shall ever know the sign;
So fill your glass, round let it pass, for I am getting dry,
And toast with me to the memory of the young Shepherd’s Boy.