Me An' Misther Rees.

Hurroo, avick, the M's are sick,
Thin shout, me hearties, shout,
The varmints small will shortly fall,
The O's will put thim out.
Aitch bould phalanx in loyal ranks,
Will make the despots sneeze;
We'll go ahead the O's are led
By me an' Misther Rees.

There's bould Sir George from Kawau's gorge
(That brave an' plucky Knight),
An' sturdy Bob an' Mac, be gob,
Are foremost in the fight.
Lusk in the fray will not say Nahe,
An' Bunny is the cheese—
Welsh Rabbit nate is tindher maite
For me an' Misther Rees.

Thin Hodgkinson will show thim fun—
The varmints must pay Tole—
An Shrimski small (he isn't tall,
Although he is a Pole)
Will knock 'em down, an' thin the Crown
We'll very quickly seize;
An' Nomanbee must sind, ye see,
For me an' Misther Rees.

Thin J. C. Brown, from Lawrence town,
A boy that carries weight,
Will Spur the crew 'till all is Blue.
(He's larnin' to thranslate
The Odes o' Horace! in sich lore
His head is like V. P.'s);
Shillalahs good of Southland Wood,
Will tight for me an' Rees.

O'Rorke, so bould, faix so I'm tould,
Is aiger for the sthrife,
An' Hislop, too, from Oamaru
(We've passed the De-saised Wife),
Will join our band to rule the land
Jack Sheehan too agrees,
To niver flinch, but grace the binch
Wid me an' Misther Rees.

Aitch Modherate is filled wid hate,
For those tyrannic knaves
Who rule the roast, the spalpeen host,
Must soon become our slaves.
Faix I'll go bail, we'll turn the scale,
We'll watch aitch little breeze;
Our party gains the Ballance lains
To me an' Misther Rees.

Thin down we'll dhrag the Cinthral flag,
An' thramp it in the dust,
Revinge is near, and we are here,
The Govermint to bust,

Hurroo! me boys, we'll raise a noise,
An' make thim bind their knees,
An' cry "Och hone" before the throne
Of me and Misther Rees.