Oldal 1 [1]
A New Song called The
IRISH BRIGADE IN BATTLE,
You true Roman sons of old Erin's gen isle, your attention 1
crave for a moment,
1 am going to sing those deep thrilling ‘lines in praise of my.
bold s allant soldiers, ,
On Italy’s plains most glorious they fell in defence of their
Church, its joys i do tell,
They are gon now to heaven for ever to dwell the souls of the
brave Irish heroes.
_Hibernia’s true sons long remembered shall be when they sailed
from the land of their fathers,
Went to fight in defence of the Holy See as soldiers—aye, like
the brave Spartans.
‘Go, conquer or die, or return no. more!
did say es her son left the shore,
" May the great God of armies protect you evermore, my dal¬
gashing bold Roman heroes.”
September the 18th it was the great day when full forty
thousand Sardinians, 2
Debouched in dense masses across the ereen plains, our sinall ;
-~. army they thought would noc meet “them.
‘The trumpets did sound, then the battle we gave, eleven
thousand bold Romans with their gold grenn cockades,
Supported the charge of the lrish brigade, and drove those
cursed demons before them.
i viewed the plains all around trom a rising ground, the Roman
troops | could see them defiling,
As they marched in close squares both in front and in rear, each
man seemed with victory smiling.
Saint Peter’s grand banner went soaring o’er the plains, and the
enemy’s guns like thunder did rage,
With shouts rent the air, on came our Irish brigade, and dashed
at the foes—aye, most glorious. :
The charge it was grand — —most majestic to see —as they broke
through the enemy’s centre, :
The Sardinians’ dense columns were forced to give way, with |
our bayonets we rene them asunde.
c Sons of Saint Patrick," brave OReilly did cry, as our cheers s
most deafening ascended the sky,
‘¢ For the faith of our fathers we'll conquer « or die, it’s the pride
of old lreland’s glory."
When we came to close quarters it was grand for to’ S66, though
with numbers we were overpowered,
The gallant brave sons of old Erin the Ereen, and the enemy’s
halls: came in showers,
Then the steel went to work of our Irish Brigade, the plains
strewed with dead all around they were laid, 5
While our bands at a distance played sweet ‘ Patrick’ s Day”
for Hibernia’s bold conquering heroes.
The suns loud did roar, and the earth seemed to quake, as the
cavalry charged by me flying, _
The trumpet’s shrill blast in mournfal strains did weep for the
. dead and the dying.
May the souls of those heroes who feil on the plains in dot
of our Church her rights to maintain,
Will be ranked with the blessed in heaven, 1 pray, and pone!
with immortal glory. ;
They fought for the faith ofrour dear father land, ‘and on ltaly’s
pén are now lying, :
Saint Patrick’s battalion is a real Spartan band, not a murmur
was heard from one dying.
They fought as their fathers did at Fontenoy, and the enemy
there before them did fly, |
Alas! it was for old lreland they died, oh! it was 5 for her faith
and her glory.
b each Irish mathe
far distant land are now lying,
Though the foe and the stranger may tread 0° er their grave, in
history and song well enshrine them, :
They conquered and died, their hearts’ blood gave free in defence
of our blessed Pope and the H oly See, 3
May they shine like bright stars for all eterni ty, the souls of my
brave Irish heroes.