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作曲 : Traditional Song |
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Said Pat to his mother, it looks strange to see |
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Brothers fighting in such a quare manner; |
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But I'll fight 'til I die, If I never get killed |
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For America's bright starry banner. |
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Far away in the east was a dashing young blade |
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And the song he was singing so gaily, |
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'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade |
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And the song of the splintered shillelagh. |
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The morning soon broke and poor Paddy awoke |
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He found rebels to give satisfaction |
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And the drummer was beating the Devil's sad tune |
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They were calling the boys into action. |
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Far away in the east was a dashing young blade |
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And the song he was singing so gaily, |
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'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade |
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And the song of the splintered shillelagh. |
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The day after battle, the dead lay in heaps |
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And Paddy Murphy lay bleeding and gory, |
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With a hole in his head by some enemy's ball |
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Had ended his passion for glory, |
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Far away in the east was a dashing young blade |
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And the song he was singing so gaily, |
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'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade |
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And the song of the splintered shillelagh. |
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No more in the camps will his letters be read |
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Nor his song be heard singing so gaily |
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For he died far away from the friends that he loved |
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And far from the land of shillelagh. |
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Far away in the east was a dashing young blade |
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And the song he was singing so gaily, |
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'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade |
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And the song of the splintered shillelagh. |
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And the song of the splintered shillelagh. |