O ne Sunday morning as I wen t walking
By Brisbane Waters I chanced to str ay
I heard a convict his fate be wailing
As on the sunny riverbank he lay
I a m a native of Erin's Ir eland
But banished now from my native sho re
The y stole me from my aged pa rents
And from the maiden whom I do adore
I've b een a prisoner at Port Mac quarie
At N orfolk Island and Emu Plai ns
At Ca stle Hill and the cursed Toonga bbie
At all these settlements I've been in chains
But of all places of condemnat ion
And penal stations in New South Wale s
To Moreton Bay I have found no e qual
Exce ssive tyranny each day prevails
For three long years I was beastly tre ated
And heavy irons on my legs I wor e
My back from flogging was lacera ted
And oft times painted with my crimson gore
And many a man from downright starv ation
Lies mouldering now underneath the cla y
And Captain Logan he had us mangl ed
All On the triangles of Moreton Bay
Lik e the Egyptians and ancient Hebre ws
We were oppressed under Logan's yoke
Till a native black lying there in amb ush
Did deal this tyrant with his mortal stroke
My f ellow prisoners be exhilarated
Tha t all such monsters like death may find
An d when from bondage we're libe rated
Our former suffering soon will fade from mind