3
It’s here into cold irons
my hands and feet are bound,
Condemned like a murd’rer,
and fast tyed to the ground;
O all this toil and slav’ry,
I'm willing for to stan’,
Still hoping to be saved
by my sweet Colin Bawn.
Up steps the jailor’s son,
and to Billy he did say,
Come rise up Willy Rilly,
you must appear this day
It’s at the bar of justice.
with courage you must stan'.
I’m afraid you’ll suffer sorely,
for your dear Colin Bawn.
This lady she was sensible
all in her tender youth,
If Billy had deluded her,
she must declare the truth:
Much like a morning angel bright,
before him she did stand
You are welcome here my heart's delight
my fair sweet Colin Bawn.
It’s out spoke her father dear,
at the table he stood by,
This villian came amongst us,
to disgrace our family;
The pride of these inferiors,
I am not fit to stand,
