COME GATHER ROUND ME, PARNELLITES
 
 COME gather round me, Parnellites,
 And praise our chosen man;
 Stand upright on your legs awhile,
 Stand upright while you can,
 For soon we lie where he is laid,
 And he is underground;
 Come fill up all those glasses
 And pass the bottle round.
 
 And here's a cogent reason,
 And I have many more,
 He fought the might of England
 And saved the Irish poor,
 Whatever good a farmer's got
 He brought it all to pass;
 And here's another reason,
 That parnell loved a lass.
 
 And here's a final reason,
 He was of such a kind
 Every man that sings a song
 Keeps Parnell in his mind.
 For Parnell was a proud man,
 No prouder trod the ground,
 And a proud man's a lovely man,
 So pass the bottle round.
 
 The Bishops and the party
 That tragic story made,
 A husband that had sold hiS wife
 And after that betrayed;
 But stories that live longest
 Are sung above the glass,
 And Parnell loved his countrey
 And parnell loved his lass.