| 'Twas early, early all in the spring
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| The small birds whistled and did sweetly sing
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| Changing the notes from tree to tree
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| And the song they sang was 'Old Ireland Free'
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| 'Twas early, early on Tuesday night
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| The yeomen cavalry gave me a fright
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| To my misfortune and sad downfall
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| I was taken prisoner by Lord Cornwall
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| I bear no hate against living things
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| But I love my country above the King
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| I alone am left of my native race
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| I will go to Wexford and take their place
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| When I was marching o’er Wexford Hill
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| Oh, who could blame me for to cry my fill?
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| I looked behind and I looked before
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| But my gentle mother I could see no more
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| When I was mounted on the gallows high
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| My aged father, he was standing by
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| My aged father did me deny
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| And the name he gave me was 'The Croppy Boy'
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| 'Twas in old Ireland this young man died
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| And in old Ireland his body lies
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| All you good people who do pass by
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| Pray the Lord have mercy on the Croppy Boy |