The Siege of Clampbetts Bow.

1.

Oh roll the drum and thunder,
Are the muses dead I wonder,
Those fine old ancient maidens
that once lit the poet's glow.
Are the bards all gone to blazes,
That none will sing the praises
of the city of the sieges,
And the Siege of Clampbetts Bow.
Now many's a row and ruction
has caused more destruction,
But ne'er a one more famous
was in the annals wrote.
Except that siege more glorious,
When Sarsfield was victorious,
When he fought
for Ireland's freedom,
In Limerick long ago
2.
You may talk of all the glories,
Won by Russians, Turks,
and Tories,
In India, Afghanistan
and far off fields you've known.
And the Zulus may surprise you,
But Garryowen defies you,
For such a siege you'll never see
as that at Clampbetts Bow.
Sure the neighbourhood of John St.
is immortalised by one street,
Where our heroes
on Chalk Sunday,
Marched out to meet the foe.
And the interfering police
were routed 'holus-bolus'
with sticks and stones and bottles,
At the Siege of Clampbetts Bow.

3.
Up to the battle's border,
The men of law and order
were hastily advancing
'ere the boys began to throw
With the flailing of each baton
our heads they tried to flatten,
Which roused the mortal vengance
of the men in Clampbetts Bow.
'Twas the grandest of all shindies,
When we barred
the doors and windies,
And let fly our hail of missiles
on the police down below.
You may talk of pioneering,
Military engineering,
But Robert Peel
himself did yield
at the Siege of Clampbetts Bow.

4.

Now we're told
that oul Cú Chullain,
when to battle he was willing,
put a brass-plate on his head-piece
for to ward the coming blow.
So each peeler stout and able,
on his noddle placed a table
which afforded no protection
from the stones
of Clampbetts Bow.
So here's to drink and fighting
and the things we take delight in
and the good old days
when constables
were rare as summer snow.
With the poitín still to feed us,
And the Clampbett boys to lead us,
We'el never win such laurels
as we won at Clampbetts Bow.
(Thomas Tracey, 1856)