Cleared in the face of all mankind beneath the winking skies, Like phoenixes from Phoenix Park (and what lay there) they rise! Go shout it to the emerald seas-give word to Erin now, Her honorable gentlemen are cleared--and this is how:
They only paid the Moonlighter his cattle-hocking price, They only helped the murderer with council's best advice, But--sure it keeps their honor white--the learned Court believes They never gave a piece of plate to murderers and thieves.
They ever told the ramping crowd to card a woman's hide, They never marked a man for death--what fault of theirs he died?-- They only said “intimidate,” and talked and went away-- By God, the boys that did the work were braver men than they!
Their sin it was that fed the fire--small blame to them that heard The “bhoys” get drunk on rhetoric, and madden at the word-- They knew whom they were talking at, if they were Irish too, The gentlemen that lied in Court, they knew and well they knew.
They only took the Judas-gold from Fenians out of jail, They only fawned for dollars on the blood-dyed Clan-na-Gael. If black is black or white is white, ill black and white it's down, They're only traitors to the Queen and rebels to the Crown.
“Cleared,” honorable gentlemen. Be thankful it's no more: The widow's curse is on your house, the dead are at your door. On you the shame of open shame, on you from North to South The band of every honest man flat-heeled across your mouth.
“Less black than we were painted”?--Faith, no word of black was said; The lightest touch was human blood, and that, ye know, runs red. It's sticking to your fist today for all your sneer and scoff, And by the Judge's well-weighed word you cannot wipe it off.
Hold up those hands of innocence--go, scare your sheep, together, The blundering, tripping tups that bleat behind the old bell-wether; And if they snuff the taint and break to find another pen, Tell them it's tar that glistens so, and daub them yours again!
“The charge is old”?--As old as Cain--as fresh as yesterday; Old as the Ten Commandments, have ye talked those laws away? If words are words, or death is death, or powder sends the ball, You spoke the words that sped the shot--the curse be on you all.