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SONG OF THE SPLINTERED SHILLELAGAH 'Twas the night before battle and, gathered in groups, The soldiers lay close at their quarters, A-thinking, no doubt, of their loved ones at home Of mothers, wives, sweethearts and daughters. With a pipe in his mouth sat a handsome young blade, And a song he was singing so gaily, His name was Pat Murphy of Meagher's Brigade And he sang of the land of Shillelagh. Said Pat to his comrades, it looks quare to see Brothers fighting in such a strange manner; But I'll fight 'til I die, If I never get killed For America's bright starry banner. Far away in the west rode a dashing young blade And the song he was singing so gaily, 'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade And the song of the splintered shillelagh. Well, morning soon broke and poor Paddy awoke He found rebels to give satisfaction And the drummer was beating the Devil's sad tune They were calling the troops into action. Far away in the west rode a dashing young blade And the song he was singing so gaily, 'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade And the song of the splintered shillelagh. Then the Irish Brigade into battle was seen, Their blood for the cause shedding freely With their bayonet charges they rushed on the foe With a shout for the land of shillelagh. Far away in the west rode a dashing young blade And the song he was singing so gaily, 'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade And the song of the splintered shillelagh. The day after battle, the dead lay in heaps And Paddy lay bleeding and gory, With a hole in his breast where some enemy's ball Had ended his passion for glory, No more in the camps will his letters be read Nor his voice be heard singing so gaily For he died far away from the friends that he loved And far from the land of shillelagh. @Irish @soldier @American @war @Civil (First heard from Ellen Stekert; pieced together from various sources; Tune:Over the Water to Charlie. RG) filename[ SHILLELA RG |
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