The Croppy Boy
It was early, early in the spring,
The birds did whistle and sweetly sing,
Changing their notes from tree to tree,
And the song they sang was ‘Old Ireland Free’.
It was early, early in the night,
The Yeoman cavalry gave me a fright;
The Yeoman cavalry was my downfall
And taken was I by Lord Cornwall.
It was in the coach house that I was laid
And in the parlor that I was tried;
My sentence passed and my courage low
As to Duncannon I was forced to go.
As I was going up Wexford Street
My own first cousin I chanced to meet;
My own first cousin did me betray,
And for one bare guinea swore my life away.
As I was passing my father’s door
My brother William stood in the door,
My aged father stood there before
And my own dear mother her hair she tore.
As I was going up Wexford Hill,
Oh who would blame me to cry my fill?
I looked behind and I looked before,
And my own dear mother I shall ne’er see more.
As I was standing on the scaffold high,
My own dear father was standing nigh;
My aged father did me deny,
And the name he gave me was ‘The Croppy Boy’.
It was in Dungannon this young man died,
And in Dungannon his body was laid;
Now all good people that do pass by
O spare a tear for ‘The Croppy Boy’.
Croppy was a nickname given to Irish rebels
fighting for independence from Britain during the