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442 THE GOLDEN TREASURY OF |
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ROBERT DWYER JOYCE (1830-1883)
CROSSING THE BLACKWATER
A. D. 1603
W
E stood so steady, All under fire, We stood so steady, Our long spears ready
To vent our ire; To dash on the Saxon, Our mortal foe, And lay him low In the bloody mire.
'Twas by Black water, When snows were white,
'Twas by Black water,
Our foes for the slaughter Stood full in sight;
But we were ready
With our long spears,
And we had no fears But we'd win the fight.
Their bullets came whistling
Upon our rank, Their bullets came whistling, |
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