Rebel Songbook C-F
Croppy Boy,The
Cahir O'Doherty
Castle Of Drumboe
Children Of The Dole
Clare's Dragoons
Come Out Ye Black And Tans
Come To The Bower
Connolly Was There
Croppies Lie Down
Croppy Boy,The
Croppy Boy,The
Croppy Boy,The
Dawning Of The Day
Dear Harp Of My Country
Death Before Revenge
Derry's Streets
Disband The R.U.C.
Drumboe Martyrs
Drumnakilly Ambush,The
Dungannon '57
Dying Rebel,The
Eamon Wright
Erin Go Bragh
Erin's Flag
Ethel Lynch
Extradition Song,The
Faith Of Our Fathers
Fanatic Heart
Father Murphy
Father's Blessing
Fenian Record Player,The
Fenians Escape,The
Fenians From Cahirciveen
Fenians Of The Rock
Fields Of Athenry
Fields Of Athenry
Fighting Men Of Crossmaglen
Fire Of Freedom
Flag Of The Fianna
Foggy Dew,The
Follow Me Up To Carlow
For What Died The Sons Of Róisín
Forever In My Mind
Forgotten Hero
Four Green Fields
Free Joe Now
Free The People
Freedom Walk

The Croppy Boy

It was early, early in the Spring
The small birds whistled sweet did sing,
Changing their notes from tree to tree,
And the song they sung was "Old Ireland free!"

It was early, early, on Tuesday night
When the Yeomen cavalry gave me a fright,
To my misfortune and sad downfall,
I was taken prisoner by Lord Cornwall.

It was in his guard-house where I was laid,
And in his parlour I was tried,
My sentence passed, and my spirits low,
When to New Geneva (1) I was forced to go.

When I was marching through the street,
The drums and fifes did play so sweet,
The drums and fifes so sweetly play,
As we were marching so far away.

When I was going past my father's door,
My brother, William, stood on the floor;
My aged father did grieve full sore,
And my tender mother her hair she tore.

When my sister, Mary, heard the express,
She ran down stairs in her morning dress,
Saying: "One hundred guineas I would lay down
To see you liberated in Wexford town."

When I was marching o'er Wexford Hill,
Oh! who could blame me to cry my fill?
I looked behind, I looked before,
But my tender mother I ne'er saw more.

I chose the black, I chose the blue,
I forsook the red and orange too,
I did forsake them and did them deny,
I wore the green, and for it I'd die.

Farewell, father, and mother too,
And sister Mary, I have none but you,
And for my brother he's all alone,
He's pointing pikes on the grinding stone,

It was in old Ireland this young man died,
And in Old Ireland his body's laid,
All the good people that do pass by
Pray the Lord have Mercy on the Croppy Boy.