Oh, loyal Orange breth-er-en.
I pray you act as Christlan men,
And, should your spleen arise, count ten
   Before you speak.
Nay, bear me, brothers, I beseech.
Refrain from all un-Christian speech
Remember! He, whose Word we preach,
   Was ever week.


The lazy, low Italian,
The cheating, shifty Mexican -
All Papist creatures to a man;
   Avid brutes at that -
The scum that Rome's base agents skim
With mummery from ages dim.
Dear brothers, let us sing a n'ymn,
   And pass the bat.


Oh, Orangemen, I cannot find
Words to express my state of mind -
Fit epithets to name the kind
   Of brutish man
Who takes the word of Popery
Concerning dim eternity.
But, brothers, let us ever be
   Ker-is-ti-an.


Then, look upon the Irish too -
A miserable murd'rous crew!
They'll feed you up on Irish stew,
   Then cut your throat.
And - it is truth that I allege -
They'll shoot you from behind a hedge -
Dear brothers, recollect your pledge,
   And peace promote.


Oh, loyal, loving, Orangemen,
Be tolerant and kindly when
You preach about your fellow men.
   E'en as I be.
Be ever mild and circumspect.
(A curse on all the Popish sect!)
And brothers, brothers, recollect
   Sweet Charity.

"Den"
The Bulletin, 20 August 1908, p11