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IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 149 |
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"I wish 'twas in Ireland, for there's the place,"
Said Burke, "that we'd die by right, In the cradle of our soldier race,
After one good stand-up fight. My grandfather fell on Vinegar Hill,
And fighting was not his trade; But his rusty pike's in the cabin still,
With Hessian blood on the blade." "Aye, aye," said Kelly, "the pikes were great
When the word was ' clear the way !' We were thick on the roll in ninety-eight —
Kelly and Burke and Shea." " Well, here's to the pike and the sword and the like ! "
Said Kelly and Burke and Shea.
And Shea, the scholar, with rising joy,
Said, " We were at Ramillies ; We left our bones at Fontenoy
And up in the Pyrenees; Before Dunkirk, on Landen's plain,
Cremona, Lille, and Ghent, We're all over Austria, France, and Spain,
Wherever they pitched a tent. We've died for England from Waterloo
To Egypt and Dargai; And still there's enough for a corps or crew,
Kelly and Burke and Shea." " Well, here is to good honest fighting blood ! "
Said Kelly and Burke and Shea.
" Oh, the fighting races don't die out,
If they seldom die in bed, For love is first in their hearts, no doubt," |
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