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