THE MAY OF THE QUEEN.
(The Land League Boy to his Mother).
You must wake and call me early; call me early, mother dear;
To-morrow will be the saddest time of Ireland's sad new year.
Of all this threat'ning year, mother, the blackest, foulest, day,
For I'm to be tried by Judge May, mother, I'm to be tried by Judge May.
There's many a black, black crime, mother, they charge against your lad;
There's Boycotting and murder, and everything that's bad;
And I'm bound to be convicted, though innocent, they say—
For I'm to be tried by Judge May, mother, I'm to be tried by Judge May.
You know I wasn't there, mother, when all the row was made;
I never made a wicked speech, or led a Land League raid;
But the judge has made up his mind to put your boy away—
For I'm to be tried by Judge May, mother, I'm to be tried by Judge May.
So wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear,
For at ten o'clock, before the Court, I'm summoned to appear.
There's little chance of justice, he's a partisan they say—
This fierce and biassed judge, mother, this Lord Chief Justice May.