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作曲 : Derek Warfield |
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You Irishmen and women too, draw near, both young and old |
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A doleful lamentation now to you I will unfold |
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One hundred gallant Irishmen, we are left for to deplore |
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Whose bodies fell a-victim upon fair Columbia's shore |
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It was at the siege of New Orleans, upon the ninth of May |
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Our countrymen they suffered so upon that fatal day |
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They were engaged by five to one and charged with the load and steel |
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But Erin's sons did loudly cry, we'll die before we kneel |
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The federals they did then advanced and broken right through the town |
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They trampled dead and wounded men that upon the cold cold ground |
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The wounded called for mercy but none they did receive |
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They numbered them among the dead and threw them in the grave |
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Three hundred killed and wounded did lay all in their grave |
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One half of them were Irishmen far from their native shore |
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Poor orphans now they may weep and cry and parents through the day |
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They let their lovely children go on to Americay |
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Not one of them did near escape upon that awful day |
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But alas their number it was too small and it gave them no fair play |
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They had no one to heal their wounds, may angels them surround |
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Before the throne of heaven may they wear a brilliant crown |
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For ye that hear those doleful lines, do not neglect to toil |
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and labor for your livelihood far from St. Patricks Isle |
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Now to conclude these mournful lines, with grief I'll say no more |
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You know it was through poverty they left their native shore |
