Lyr Add: Shall My Soul Pass through Old Ireland?

Subject: Lyr Add: SHALL MY SOUL PASS THROUGH OLD IRELAND?
From: Ezio
Date: 08 Aug 97 - 10:31 AM

This one should be missing in DT --------------------------------------------------

SHALL MY SOUL PASS THROUGH OLD IRELAND?

In a dreary British prison where an Irish rebel lay.
By his side a priest waits standing were his soul to pass away.
As he gently murmurs father, the priest takes him by the hand.
Father tell me if I die shall my soul pass through Ireland.

(CHORUS)
Shall my soul pass through old Ireland pass through Cork city grand.
Shall I see the old Cathedral where Saint Patrick made his stand.
Shall I see the little chapel where I placed my heart in hand.
Father tell me when I die shall my soul pass through Ireland.

Was for loving dear old Ireland in this prison cell I lie.
Was for loving dear old Ireland in this foreign land I die.
When you see my little daughter won't you make her understand.
Father tell me if I die shall my soul pass through Ireland.

(CHORUS)

With his soul pure as a lily and his body sanctified.
In that dreary British prison our brave Irish rebel died.
Prayed the priest his wish be granted as his blessing he did.
Father grant this brave man's wish may his soul pass through Ireland.

(CHORUS)

----------------- Ezio of Italy

breaks added by Mud Elf

Subject: Lyr Add: THE LEGEND OF THE REBEL SOLDIER
From: Jon W.
Date: 08 Aug 97 - 12:13 PM

Here is another version, this one American (Confederate)

THE LEGEND OF THE REBEL SOLDIER
(arr. Moore) The Country Gentlemen

In a dreary Yankee prison where a rebel soldier lay
By his side there stood a preacher ere his soul should pass away
And he faintly whispered parson, as he clutched him by the hand
Oh parson, tell me quickly, will my soul pass through the Southland?

Will my soul pass through the Southland, through Old Virginia grand?
Will I see the hills of Georgia, and the green fields of Alabam?
Will I see the little churchhouse, where I pledged my heart and hand?
Oh parson, tell me quickly, will my soul pass through the Southland?

Was for loving dear old Dixie, in this dreary cell I lie
Was for loving dear old Dixie, in this Northern State I die
Will you see my little daughter, will you make her understand?
Oh parson, tell me quickly, will my soul pass through the Southland?

Then the Rebel Soldier died.