War Poetry

A New War Song By Sir Peter Parker

My lords with your leave
An account I will give
That deserves to be written in metre
For the rebels and I
Have been pretty nigh
Faith, almost too nigh for Sir Peter.

With much labor and toil,
Unto Sullivan's Isle,
I came firm as Falstaff or Pistol,
But the Yankees, 'od rot 'em,
I could not get at 'em,
Most terribly mauled my poor Bristol.

Bold Clinton by land
Did quietly stand
[While I made a thundering clatter;
But the channel was deep,
So he could only peep,
And not venture over the water.]*

De'il take' em, their shot
Came so swift and so hot
And the cowardly dogs stood so stiff sirs!
That I put ship about
And was glad to get out
Or they would not have left me a skiff sirs!

Now bold as a Turk
I proceed to New York,
There with Clinton and Howe you may find me
I've the wind in my tail
And am hoisting my sail,
To leave Sullivan's island behind me.

But my Lords, do not fear,
For before the next year,
Although a small island could fret us,
The Continent whole,
We shall take, by my soul
If the cowardly Yankees will let us.

* for bracketed section, Burl Ives sang:
[While my guns made a terrible rumpus,
But my pride took a fall when a well-aimed ball
propelled me along on my bumpus!]

From the American Revolution Songbook, Rabson

"Note: Sir Peter Parker was not the pride of England. He commanded the British flagship Bristol leading a convoy to assist in Clinton's proposed invasion of Charleston, South Carolina. He attacked the fort on Sullivan's Island, which guarded the entrance to Charleston Harbor, and was beaten off, but not before having his breeches blown off in the encounter. For some reason, the Rebels thought this was funny." ~RG

Battle of Sullivan's Island, June 28, 1776

Sound The Pibroch

Sound the pibroch loud and high
Frae John o' Groats tae Isle o' Skye
Let every clan their slogan cry
Rise and follow Charlie

Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Rise and follow Charlie

See that small devoted band
By dark Loch Shiel they've made their stand
And bravely vowed wi' heart and hand
To rise and Royal Charlie

From every hill and every glen
Are gatherin' fast the loyal men
They grasp their dirks and shout again
Hurrah for Royal Charlie

On dark Culloden's field of gore
Hark they shout Claymore, Claymore
They bravely fight what can they more
Than die for Royal Charlie

Now on the barren heath they lie
Their Funeral Dirge the eagle's cry
Mountain breezes o'er them sigh
Wha' fought and died for Charlie

No more we'll see such deeds again
Deserted is each Highland glen
And lonely cairns are o'er the men
Wha' fought and died for Charlie

Sound the pibroch loud and high
Frae John o' Groats tae Isle o' Skye
Let every clan their slogan cry
Rise and follow Charlie

Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Rise and follow Charlie

Traditional

["Tha tighin fodham" is pronounced HATCHEEN FOAM and means "it comes upon me" or "I have the wish".]

Battle of Culloden, April 16, 1746

The Fighting 69th

Come all you gallant heroes,
And along with me combined
I'll sing a song, it won't take long,
Of the Fighting Sixty Ninth
They're a band of men brave, stout and bold,
From Ireland they came
And they have a leader to the fold,
And Cocoran was his name

It was in the month of April,
When the boys they sailed away
And they made a sight so glorious,
As they marched along Broadway
They marched right down Broadway, me boys,
Until they reached the shore
And from there they went to Washington,
And straight unto the war

So we gave them a hearty cheer, me boys,
It was greeted with a smile
Singing here's to the boys who feared no noise,
We're the Fighting Sixty Ninth

And when the war is said and done,
May heaven spare our lives
For its only then we can return,
To our loved ones and our wives
We'll take them in our arms, me boys,
For a long night and a day
And we'll hope that war will come no more,
To sweet America

So we gave them a hearty cheer, me boys,
It was greeted with a smile
Singing here's to the boys who feared no noise,
We're the Fighting Sixty Ninth

So farewell unto you dear New York,
Will I e'er see you once more
For it fills my heart with sorrow,
To leave your sylvan shore
But the country now it is calling us,
And we must hasten fore
So here's to the stars and stripes, me boys,
And to Ireland's lovely shore

And here's to Murphy and Devine,
Of honour and renown
Who did escort our heroes,
Unto the battle ground
And said unto our colonel,
We must fight hand to hand
Until we plant the stars and stripes,
Way down in Dixieland

So we gave them a hearty cheer, me boys,
It was greeted with a smile
Singing here's to the boys who feared no noise,
We're the Fighting Sixty Ninth

Traditional

http://youtu.be/eWvdf_51Iq0

Bonny Dundee

To the Lords o' Convention 'twas Claverhouse spoke
E'er the King's crown go down there are crowns to be broke
So each cavalier who loves honour and me
Let him follow the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can
Come saddle my horses and call out my men
Unhook the West Port and let us gae free
For it's up with the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee

Dundee he is mounted and rides up the street
The bells they ring backward, the drums they are beat
But the provost douce man says just let it be
For the toon is well rid o' that devil Dundee

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can
Come saddle my horses and call out my men
Unhook the West Port and let us gae free
For it's up with the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee

There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth
Be there lords in the south, there are chiefs in the north
There are brave downie wassles three thousand times three
Cry hey for the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can
Come saddle my horses and call out my men
Unhook the West Port and let us gae free
For it's up with the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee

And awa tae the hills, tae the lee and the rocks
Ere I own a userper I'll couch with the fox
So tremble false whigs in the mid'st o' yer glee
For ye've no seen the last o' my bonnets and me

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can
Come saddle my horses and call out my men
Unhook the West Port and let us gae free
For it's up with the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can
Come saddle my horses and call out my men
Unhook the West Port and let us gae free
For it's up with the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee.

~Traditional

http://youtu.be/ORcIqTtXxhs

Dark Night

Dark night, only bullets are whistling in the steppe,
Only the wind is wailing through the telephone wires, stars are faintly flickering...
In the dark night, my love, I know you are not sleeping,
And, near a child's crib, you secretly wipe away a tear.

How I love the depths of your gentle eyes,
How I long to press my lips to them!
This dark night separates us, my love,
And the dark, troubled steppe has come to lie between us.

I have faith in you, in you, my sweetheart.
That faith has shielded me from bullets in this dark night...
I am glad, I am calm in deadly battle:
I know you will meet me with love, no matter what happens.

Death is not terrible, we've met with it more than once in the steppe...
And here it looms over me once again,
You await my return, sitting sleepless near a cradle,
And so I know that nothing will happen to me!

~Traditional Russian song

http://youtu.be/ObzPjTAwvMY

In The Field Tanks Roared

In the field tanks roared,
Soldiers went into their last battle,
And they carried off the young commander
Shot through the head
And they carried off the young commander
Shot through the head

An ingot of iron struck the tank,
Goodbye our crew.
Four bodies by the tank
Add to the morning landscape
Four bodies by the tank
Add to the morning landscape

The machine is embraced by flame,
Just about ripping open the unit,
And the boys so wanted to live
But they don't have the strength to get out
And the boys so wanted to live
But they don't have the strength to get out

They will pull us out from under the scrap metal,
Our carcasses smoke in their arms.
And the volleys of the mainguns
See us off on our final journey
And the volleys of the mainguns
See us off on our final journey

And here telegrams will fly,
Informing relatives and close friends,
That your son will not return
And won't come to visit
That your son will not return
And won't come to visit

In the corner the old mother begins to cry,
The old father brushes away a tear,
And the young girl won't learn,
How the young fellow died
And the young girl won't learn,
How the young fellow died.

And a picture will gather dust,
On a shelf full of yellowed books,
In a military uniform with shoulderboards
And to her he isn't a groom anymore
In a military uniform with shoulderboards
And to her he isn't a groom anymore.

Traditional Russian song

http://youtu.be/MOi9-_kuvPA

The Heroes of Queenstown

September the thirteenth, at midnight so dark,
Our troops on the River Niagara embark'd;
The standard of Britain resolved to pull down,
And drive the proud foes from the heights of Queenstown.

Traditional (War of 1812)

The Dying Soldier

The sun was slowly sinking o'er the hilltops far away
The land was endless beauty where the dying soldier lay
Tears were streaming down his face as he slowly raised his head
And these were the dying words he said:

Oh carry me back to old Tennessee
Let this be my last repose
Lay my feet beneath while I lie
Lay my head beneath the rose

Take this message to my mother for I know she's old and gray
At home I know she's waiting for her boy's return some day
Oh my mother I've come through for my country and for you
And I'm dying for the red white and blue<

O'er the hills of Tennessee where the wild wind wanders free
There's a little girl waiting there for me
Tell her that the rose she gave me will be placed upon my grave
In memory of her soldier brave

Traditional

http://youtu.be/OkWGw4qTI9w

Sound The Pibroch

Sound the pibroch loud and high
Frae John o' Groats tae Isle o' Skye
Let every clan their slogan cry
Rise and follow Charlie

Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Rise and follow Charlie

See that small devoted band
By dark Loch Shiel they've made their stand
And bravely vowed wi' heart and hand
To rise and Royal Charlie

From every hill and every glen
Are gatherin' fast the loyal men
They grasp their dirks and shout again
Hurrah for Royal Charlie

On dark Culloden's field of gore
Hark they shout Claymore, Claymore
They bravely fight what can they more
Than die for Royal Charlie

Now on the barren heath they lie
Their Funeral Dirge the eagle's cry
Mountain breezes o'er them sigh
Wha' fought and died for Charlie

No more we'll see such deeds again
Deserted is each Highland glen
And lonely cairns are o'er the men
Wha' fought and died for Charlie

Sound the pibroch loud and high
Frae John o' Groats tae Isle o' Skye
Let every clan their slogan cry
Rise and follow Charlie

Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Rise and follow Charlie

Traditional

http://youtu.be/LuCmZNvnxlI

["Tha tighin fodham" is pronounced HATCHEEN FOAM and means "it comes upon me" or "I have the wish".]

Battle of Culloden, April 16, 1746

The Fighting Sixty Ninth

Come all you gallant heroes,
And along with me combined
I'll sing a song,
it won't take long,
Of the Fighting Sixty Ninth
They're a band of men brave,
stout and bold,
From Ireland they came
And they have a leader to the fold,
And Cocoran was his name

It was in the month of April,
When the boys they sailed away
And they made a sight so glorious,
As they marched along Broadway
They marched right down Broadway,
me boys,
Until they reached the shore
And from there they went to Washington,
And straight unto the war

So we gave them a hearty cheer,
me boys,
It was greeted with a smile
Singing here's to the boys who feared no noise,
We're the Fighting Sixty Ninth

And when the war is said and done,
May heaven spare our lives
For its only then we can return,
To our loved ones and our wives
We'll take them in our arms,
me boys,
For a long night and a day
And we'll hope that war will come no more,
To sweet America

So farewell unto you dear New York,
Will I e'er see you once more
For it fills my heart with sorrow,
To leave your sylvan shore
But the country now it is calling us,
And we must hasten fore
So here's to the stars and stripes,
me boys,
And to Ireland's lovely shore

And here's to Murphy and Devine,
Of honour and renown
Who did escort our heroes,
Unto the battle ground
And said unto our colonel,
We must fight hand to hand
Until we plant the stars and stripes,
Way down in Dixieland

So we gave them a hearty cheer,
me boys,
It was greeted with a smile
Singing here's to the boys who feared no noise,
We're the Fighting Sixty Ninth

Traditional