The Protestant Commander

The Protestant Commander, or, a Dialogue between him and his loving Lady, at his departure hence with his Majesty King William for the expedition in Ireland.

Farewell, my sweet lady, my love, and delight,
Under grat King William in person I’ll fight;
Wherefore for awhile I must leave thee behind,
Yet let not my absence, love, trouble thy mind:
In Dublin city our king we’ll proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.

An army we have of true Prtestant boys,
Who fears not the French nor the Irish, dear joys;
We’ll freely salute them with powder and ball,
Till we have utterly routed them all;
The sword of King William his name shall proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.

Love, let me go with thee, the lady reply’d,
I freely can venture to die by thy side;
A heart of true courage I bear in my breast,
Therefore for King William I vow and protest,
A sword I will flourish his name to proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.

I’ll strip off these jewels and rings which I wear,
And other apparel in brief I’ll prepare;
In bright shining armour I then will appear,
And march in the field by the side of my dear;
The conquering sword shall King William proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.

My jewel, if thou hast a mind to go o’er
Along with thy love to the Irish shore;
I freely will give my consent to this thing,
Yet not like a souldier to fight for the king:
His army is able his name to proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.

The court is more fit than the camp for my dear,
Where beautiful ladies in glory appear;
While soldiers of fortune must fight in the field,
Until they have made the proud enemy yield.
The conquering sword shall King William proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.

My dearest, said she, I’ll to Ireland go,
I value not courts, neither fear I the foe;
Thy presence will yield my both joy and delight;
I’ll wait in thy tent till, returning from fight,
The conquering sword does King William proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.

If thou shouldst be wounded, my dear, in the field,
Then shall I be ready some succour to yield.
‘Tis true, my sweet lady, he straitways reply’d,
Thy earnest desire shall not be deny’d;
Our conquering sword shall King William proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.

The French and the Tories King William will rout,
From city to castle he’ll course them about;
We’ll make the poor Teagues to quite change their tone,
From Lilli burlero to Ah! hone, ah! hone.
With conquering sword we’ll King William proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.

The Frenchmen the height of our fury shall feel,
We’ll chase them with swords of true-tempered steel;
They, food for the ravens and crows shall be made,
And teach them hereafter that land to invade.
Then through the whole nation our king we’ll proclaim,
And crown him with trophies of honour and fame.


ESTC Citation Number: R182219