There is one song in the Bodleian, Firth c.14(23), called Corunna's Lang Shore. It is not about Moore. Date between 1849 and 1880, Glasgow.

Lyrics Add: CORUNNA'S LANG SHORE

I write you this long letter from Corunna's lang shore,
Here I lie dying and bleeding in gore;
I have fought here a battle, I'm afraid that I'm slain,
I write to let you know that we'll never meet again.

My dear, take this letter, it's the last one I'll send;
Our long correspondence is now at an end;
I'm wounded in the body, no surgeon can cure,
And the wounds I have received are fatal, I'm sure.

Whilst I lie bleeding upon the cold ground,
The blood from my wounds like a fountain runs down,
With my napkin I stop it, for to gain as long time
For to write you this letter, pretty Peggy of mine.

When you read this letter, dear maid do not frown,
For what is man's fortune it's here I'll pen down,
Our life's but a shadow, that, I plainly see now,
And there's nothing that grieves me but parting with you.

And when we were parted it was with great pain,
But we still having small hopes for to meet each again;
Our hopes are all over, and I'll ne'er see you more,
So I'll leave you, my Peggy, on Corunnas lang shore.

Air- The best of friends must part. Not the best poetry!