Song of the Splintered Shillelagah

(First heard from Ellen Stekert; pieced together from various

sources; Tune:Over the Water to Charlie. RG)



'Twas the night before battle and, gathered in groups,

The soldiers lay close at their quarters,

A-thinking, no doubt, of their loved ones at home

Of mothers, wives, sweethearts and daughters.



With a pipe in his mouth sat a handsome young blade,

And a song he was singing so gaily,

His name was Pat Murphy of Meagher's Brigade

And he sang of the land of Shillelagh.



Said Pat to his comrades, it looks quare to see

Brothers fighting in such a strange manner;

But I'll fight 'til I die, If I never get killed

For America's bright starry banner.



Far away in the west rode a dashing young blade

And the song he was singing so gaily,

'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade

And the song of the splintered shillelagh.



Well, morning soon broke and poor Paddy awoke

He found rebels to give satisfaction

And the drummer was beating the Devil's sad tune

They were calling the troops into action.



Far away in the west rode a dashing young blade

And the song he was singing so gaily,

'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade

And the song of the splintered shillelagh.



Then the Irish Brigade into battle was seen,

Their blood for the cause shedding freely

With their bayonet charges they rushed on the foe

With a shout for the land of shillelagh.



Far away in the west rode a dashing young blade

And the song he was singing so gaily,

'Twas honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade

And the song of the splintered shillelagh.



The day after battle, the dead lay in heaps

And Paddy lay bleeding and gory,

With a hole in his breast where some enemy's ball

Had ended his passion for glory,



No more in the camps will his letters be read

Nor his voice be heard singing so gaily

For he died far away from the friends that he loved

And far from the land of shillelagh.



@Irish @soldier @rebel

filename[ SHILLELA

RG

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