Oh, loyal Orange breth-er-en. I pray you act as Christlan men, And, should your spleen arise, count ten Before you speak. Nay, bear me, brothers, I beseech. Refrain from all un-Christian speech Remember! He, whose Word we preach, Was ever week. The lazy, low Italian, The cheating, shifty Mexican All Papist creatures to a man; Avid brutes at that The scum that Rome's base agents skim With mummery from ages dim. Dear brothers, let us sing a n'ymn, And pa** the bat. Oh, Orangemen, I cannot find Words to express my state of mind Fit epithets to name the kind Of brutish man Who takes the word of Popery Concerning dim eternity. But, brothers, let us ever be Ker-is-ti-an. Then, look upon the Irish too A miserable murd'rous crew! They'll feed you up on Irish stew, Then cut your throat. And - it is truth that I allege They'll shoot you from behind a hedge Dear brothers, recollect your pledge, And peace promote. Oh, loyal, loving, Orangemen, Be tolerant and kindly when You preach about your fellow men. E'en as I be. Be ever mild and circumspect. (A curse on all the Popish sect!) And brothers, brothers, recollect Sweet Charity.