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The Croppy Boy sung by Anne Byrne Anne Byrne, Website The Croppy By. It was early, early all in the spring, The small birds whistled and sweetly sing, Changing their notes from tree to tree And the song they sang was Old Ireland free. It was early early on the Tuesday night, The yeoman cavalry gave me a fright; To my misfortune and sad downfall I was taken prisoner by Lord Cornwall. I choose the Black, I choose the Blue, I forsook the Red and Orange too, I did forsake them and them deny, I choose the Green, and for it I'll die... As I was mounted on the gallows high My aged father was standing by; My aged father did me deny And the name he gave me was the Croppy Boy.
