To arms ye Ulster yeomen,
The day is drawing nigh,
For freedom’s cause our hearts and homes,
We then must do or die,
This heritage our fathers bought,
With noble blood they paid,
Shall we, their sons, now traitors turn
To them in graves long laid.

Stand fast, ye Ulster yeomen,
Tis not alone ye fight,
The great and grand Commander,
Knows well your cause is right;
The One who helped in ages past,
To-day is still the same;
Then still defy their Romish laws,
And shout Jehovah’s name.

To arms, ye Ulster yeomen,
Your friends across the sea
Are staunch and tree good Orangemen,
And from no foe would flee;
Be not dismayed by roaring guns,
Or foeman’s pikes of steel,
But, ever onward steadily march,
Let foes your bayonets feel.

To arms, ye Ulstermen yeomen,
Hear now the cannon’s roar,
Our Bible and the Union Jack
We never will give o’er;
Our fathers fought for liberty
At Aughrim and the Boyne
And rather than a Romish king,
Our bones with theirs will join.

Be not dismayed, ye Volunteers,
Each loyal Orange son,
Stand firm and fast, both rank and file,
Stick manly to your gun;
Tis freedom’s fight, your cause is just,
Now then, my lads, be brave,
For Ulster’s honour better die
Than live a Romish slave.

J.M.C. Cullybackey 18th March 1914

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