The Blarismoor Tragedy I Ye Muse, grant me direction, To sing this foul transaction Which causes sad reflection Late done at Blarismoor. By wicked Colonel Barber, Should I proceed much farther And call his conduct murder 'Twere treason I am sure II Belfast may well remember When tyrants in their splendour, In all their pomp and grandeur, They hoist them on a car; While cavalry were prancing And infantry advancing And glittering armour glancing, All in the pomp of war. III They were of good behaviour, No heroes eer were braver, But a perjured base deceiver. He swore their lives away For the sake of golden store This villain falsely swore And the crime we now deploreAlberto Forero