SONGS OF THE CIVIL WAR & IRELAND

SONGS THAT WE SING AROUND THE CAMP FIRE

ALL QUIET ALONG THE POTOMAC

 

BOYS THAT WORE THE GREEN
On the twenty first of July, beneath a burning sun,
McDowell met the Southern troops in battle, at Bull Run:
Above the Union vanguard, was proudly dancing seen,
Beside the starry banner, old Erin's flag of green.

Colonel Corcoran led the Sixty-ninth on that eventful day­
I wish the Prince of Wiles were there to see him in the fray.
His charge upon the batteries was a most glorious scene,
With gallant New York firemen, and the boys that wore the green.

In. the hottest of the fire there rode along the line
A captain of a Zouave band crying, now boys, is your time;"
Ah! who is he so proudly rides, with bold and dauntless mien?
'Tis Thomas Francis Meagher, of Erin's isle of green!

The colours of the Sixty-ninth, I say it without shame
Were taken in the struggle to swell the victor's fame
But Farnham's dashing Zouaves, that run with the machine
Retook them in a moment, with the boys that wore the green!

Being overpowered by numbers, our troops were forced to flee,
The Southern black horse cavalry on them charged furiously;
But in that hour of peril, the flying mass to screen,
Stood the gallant New York firemen with the boys that wore the green.

Oh, the boys of the Sixty-ninth, they are a gallant band,
Bolder never drew a sword for their adopted land;
Amongst the fallen heroes, a braver had not been,
Than you lamented Haggerty, of Erin's isle of green

Farewell, my gallant countrymen who fell that fatal day
Farewell, ye noble firemen, now mouldering in the clay;
Whilst blooms the leafy shamrock, whilst runs the old machine
Your deeds will live, bold Red Shirts and Boys that wore the green

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THE BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC (1862)
Words by Julia Ward Howe
Music: John Brown's Body"
 Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the lord;
He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword,
His truth is marching on.  

CHORUS
Glory, Glory Hallelujah,
Glory, Glory Hallelujah,
Glory, Glory Hallelujah,
His truth is marching on.

I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps;
They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;
I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps,
His day is marching on.  

(CHORUS)

I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows of steel:
"As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My Grace shall deal;
Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,
Since God is marching on."  

(CHORUS)

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;
He is sifting out the hearts of men before His Judgement Seat;
Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him, be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is marching on.  

 (CHORUS)

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me;
As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
While God is marching on.  

 (CHORUS)

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SHARPSBURG

When Lee's divided army stepped upon the Maryland shore,
He hoped to flank the Federals by attacking Baltimore.
McClellan wired to Lincoln, “Sir I have Lee's battle plan,
“I'll catch him at South Mountain, and I'll bag his Rebel band.”  
Silently they stood in ranks a hundred thousand strong.
And stared across the corn fields in the early morning dawn.
The ragged grey clad soldiers faced the men in blue again,
While star crossed, blood red banners fluttered wildly in the wind.  

CHORUS
So one last kiss to say farewell, Susanna don't you cry.
Just hold me for a moment now, before we say goodbye.
I'll carry your sweet image. Your name I'll softly speak.
If I should fall at Sharpsburg, beside Antietam Creek.

Hooker gives the order, and the Iron Brigade steps out.
Half way through the tall green corn, they hear the Rebels shout.
Like a lightening scythe the volley lay the Black Hats row on row,
Like dry leaves in a whirlwind they fall to rise no more.

Jackson turns to Hood and shouts, “Now send your Texans in.”
And a frightening Rebel banshee howl floats above the cannons din.
Four times they charge and counter charge across the blood soaked field.
The Dunker church, the gravestones where the Rebs refuse to yield.
(CHORUS)
John B Gordon's voice rings out beneath the mid-day sun,
“We'll hold this line till the sun goes down, or victory is won.
“Alabamans to the centre, fix your rifles, cap and load.
“For we must hold the Yankees here upon the sunken road.”  
The Irish men fixed bayonets, green silk colours they displayed.
They charged in marshal splendour, as the drum and fife were played.
The silent Maryland countryside explodes in smoke and flame.
And turns the sunken road into a ghastly bloody lane.  

(CHORUS) 

Perched high on cliffs above the stream, Toomb's Georgians hold the bridge.
Blue coats fall with every stride as flames pour from the ridge.
We'll trade our blood for whiskey, and we'll storm the Rebs on high,
We'll take the bridge, and plant old glory on the other side.  
With a rush Yanks crossed the blood soaked bridge,
Then climbed the cliffs beyond.
But A P Hill has just arrived, and he's got his red shirt on.
In new blue coats and flags unfurled the valiant Rebs attack.
Their volleys smashed the Highlanders, and drive the Zouarves back.

Next day the guns stood silent in the cold September rain.
We'd had enough of killing fields to start the thing again.
So McClellan stood his bloody ground, and claimed that he had won.
While Lee knew well this terrible war had only just begun.

So one last kiss to say farewell, Susanna don't you cry.
Just hold me for a moment now, before we say goodbye.
I'll carry your sweet image. Your name I'll softly speak.
If I should fall at Sharpsburg, beside Antietam Creek.
  I'll carry your sweet image. Your name I'll softly speak.
If I should fall at Sharpsburg, beside Antietam Creek.

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MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA
  by Henry C. Work

Bring the good old bugle, boys, we'll sing another song;
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world along,
Sing it as we used to sing it, fifty thousand strong,
     While we were marching through Georgia.

(Chorus)
Hurrah! Hurrah! We bring the jubilee!
Hurrah! Hurrah! The flag that makes you free!
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea,
While we were marching through Georgia.

How the darkeys shouted when they heard the joyful sound!
How the turkeys gobbled which our commissary found!
How the sweet potatoes even started from the ground,
     While we were marching through Georgia.
(Chorus)

Yes, and there were Union men who wept with joyful tears,
When they saw the honored flag they had not seen for years;
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking forth in cheers,
     While we were marching through Georgia.
(Chorus)

"Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach the coast!"
So the sasy Rebels said, and 'twas a handsome boast;
Had they not forgot, alas! to reckon with the host,
     While we were marching through Georgia.
(Chorus)

So we made a thoroughfare a path for liberty,
Sixty miles of latitude, three hundred to the sea;
Treason ran before us, the resistance all in flee
While we were marching through Georgia.
Chorus X 2

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ALL QUIET ALONG THE POTOMAC
"All quiet along the Potomac to-night!"
Except here and there a stray picket
Is shot, as he walks on his beat, to and fro,
By a rifleman hid in the thicket.
'Tis nothing! a private or two now and then
Will not count in the news of a battle;
Not an officer lost, only one of the men
Moaning out, all alone, the death rattle.

All quiet along the Potomac to-night!
Where the soldiers lie peacefully dreaming;
And their tents in the rays of the clear autumn moon,
And the light of their camp-fires are gleaming.
A tremulous sigh, as a gentle night-wind
Through the forest leaves slowly is creeping;
While the stars up above, with their glittering eyes,
Keep guard o'er the army sleeping.
There's only the sound of the lone sentry's tread
As he tramps from the rock to the fountain,
And thinks of the two on the low trundle bed,
Far away, in the cot on the mountain.
His musket falls slack, his face, dark and grim,
Grows gentle with memories tender,
As he mutters a prayer for the children asleep,
And their mother--"may heaven defend her!"
All quiet along the Potomac to-night!

Then drawing his sleeve roughly over his eyes,
He dashes off tears that are welling;
And gathers the gun close up to his breast
As if to keep the heart swelling.
He passes the fountain, the blasted pine-tree,
And his footstep is lagging and weary;
Yet onward he goes, through the broad belt of light,
Towards the shades of the forest so dreary.
Hark! was it the night-wind that rustled the leaves?
Was it the moonlight so wondrously flashing?
It looked like a rifle: "Ha! Mary, good-bye!"
And his life-blood is ebbing and plashing.
"All quiet along the Potomac to-night!"
No sound save the rush of the river;
While soft falls the dew on the face of the dead,
And the picket's off duty forever!
  All quiet along the Potomac to-night!

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ONE COLD WINTER'S MORNING

One cold winter's morning, Just as day was dawning,
I sailed out of Galway to cross the wild sea.
My home left behind me,
No friend's to stand by me,
Alone I was bound for Amerikay.

In New York I landed,
Flat broke I was stranded,
In search of employment,
I walked through the town.
There was no job waiting,
So without hesitating,
I went to the station, my name to put down.

Then up spoke the Captain,
He said “My fine young man,
“Here's pen and here's paper, you know what to do.”
Prayin' nothing would harm me, I joined Lincoln's army,
To fight for the stars, the red white and blue.

Then they gave me a cap,
And boots of strong leather,
They gave me a gun, and a fine coat of blue.
Then in marching formation,
For God and the nation,
We left New York City, our duty to do.

Then General Sherman,
He gave us a sermon,
On the love of one's country, and the rights of mankind.
As we marched down through Georgia,
My thoughts were on Galway,
And the friends and relations, I left far behind.

Johnny Rebel was waiting,
Ourselves he was hating,
And the things that we stood for,
he hated them too.
But he was a fine fellow,
And this I will tell you,
He stood his ground bravely, no more could he do.

For four angry years,
Through blood sweat and tears,
We slaughtered each other,
never counting the cost.
Through hail and fine weather,
Brother fought brother,
Till compassion was gone, and all reason was lost.

And nobody questioned,
Or made a suggestion,
As to while they all died,
they could just not explain.
But if this wars over,
Before we're much older,
We promised it never, will happen again.

Now the fighting has ended,
And peace has descended,
In this war blackened country,
our comrades lie low.
Lying shoulder to shoulder,
Their bones growing colder,
Their marching is over, there's no where to go.  
And so Mister Lincoln,
I find myself thinking,
In-spite of what's happened, I know what we'll do.
Pray God if he's willing,
There'll be no more killing,
And we'll raise up the stars, the red white and the blue.

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WHISKEY IN THE JAR

As I was going over the Cork and Kerry Mountains,
I met with Captain Farrell and his money he was counting,
I first drew me pistol and then I drew my rapier
Saying "Stand and deliver for I'm a bold deciever"

(chorus)
With me ring dum a doodle um dah, wack fol the daddy o,
Whack fol the daddy o, ther's whiskey in the jar.

I counted out his money and it made a pretty penny
I put it in me pocket and I gave it to my Jenny
She sighed and she wore that she would never betray me
But the Devil take the women for they naver can be easy
(chorus)

I went into me chamber all for to take a slumber
I dreamt of gold and jewels and for sure it was no wonder
But Jenny drew my charges and she filled them up with water
And she sent for Captain Farrell to be ready at the slaughter
(chorus)

And't was early in the morning before I rosed to travel
Up come a band of footmen and with them Captain Farrell
I then produced my pistol for she stole away my rapier
But I couldn't shoot the water, so a prisonner I was taken
(chorus)

They put me into jail with a judge all a writin'
For robbing Colonel Farrell on the Cork and Kerry Mountain.
But they didn't take me fists so I knocked the jailer down,
And bid a farewell to this tight fisted town.
(chorus)

And if anyone can aid me, it's my brother in the army
If I could learn his station in Cork or in Killarney
And if he'd come and join me, we'd go roving in Kilkenny
I'll engage he'd treat me fairer than my darling sporting Jenny
(Chorus X 2)

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PADDY'S LAMENTATION


And its by the hush, Me Boys
I'm Sure that's to hold your noise And listen to poor Paddy's lamentation
I was by hunger pressed
And by poverty distressed
When I look the thought I'd leave the Irish Nation

So I sold me horse and plow
Sold me sheep, me pigs, and sow
Me little farm of land and I we parted
And me sweetheart Biddy Magee
I'm afeared I'll never see
For I left her on that momin' quite broken hearted

(CHORUS)
And here's you Boys, do take my advice
To Americay I'll have you not be comin'
For there's nothing here but war
Where the murderin' cannons roar
And I wish I was back home
In dear old Ireland

So me and a hundred more
To Americay sailed o'er
Our fortunes to be makin' we were thinkin'
But when we landed in Yankee Land
They stuck a musket in me hands
Sayin' "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln."

General Meagher to us said
"If you get shot, or lose your leg
Every mother's son of you will get a pension"
But in the war I lost my leg
And all I got's a wooden peg
Oh, Me Boys, it is the truth to you I mention
  chorus

Now, I'd have thought meself in luck
To be fed an Indian buck
And in Ireland the land that I delight in
But by the Devil I do say
Curse Americay
For I'm sure I've had enough of your hard fightin'
  chorus x2

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THE BOYS OF THE IRISH BRIGADE


What for should I sing you of Roman or Greek,
Or the boys we hear tell of in story?
Come match me for fighting, for frolic, or freak,
An Irishman's reign in his glory;
For Ajax, and Hector, and bold Agamemmnon,
Were lip to the tricks of our trade, O,
But the rollicking boys, for war, ladies and noise,
The Boys of the Irish Brigade, O!

What for should I sing you of Helen or Troy,
Or the mischief that came by her flirting?
There's Biddy M'Clinchy the pride of Fermoy,
Twice as much of a Helen, that's certain.
Then for Venus, so famous, or Queen Cleopatra,
Bad luck to the word should be said, O,
By the rollicking boys, for war, ladies, and noise,
The Boys of the Irish Brigade, O!

What for should I sing you of classical fun,
Or of games whether Grecian or Persian?
Sure the Curragh's the place where the knowing one's done,
And Mallow that flogs for diversion.
For fighting for drinking, for ladies and all,
No time like our times e'er was made, O,
By the rollicking boys, for war, for ladies and noise,
The Boys of the Irish Brigade, O!

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LORENA

The years creep slowly by, Lorena,
The snow is on the grass again;
The sun's low down the sky, Lorena,
The frost gleams where the flowers have been;
But the heart throbs on as warmly now,
As when the summer days were nigh;
Oh! the sun can never dip so low,
Adown affection's cloudless sky.

A hundred months have passed, Lorena,
Since last I held thy hand in mine;
And felt the pulse beat fast, Lorena --
Though mine beat faster far than thine;
A hundred months -- 'twas flowery May,
When up the hilly slope we climbed,
To watch the dying of the day,
And hear the distant church bells chime.

We loved each other then, Lorena.
More than we ever dared to tell;
And what we might have been, Lorena,
Had but our lovings prospered well --
But then -- 'tis past; the years are gone,
I'll not call up their shadowy forms;
I'll say to them, "lost years, sleep on!
Sleep on! Nor heed life's pelting storms."

The story of that past, Lorena,
Alas! I care not to repeat;
They touched some tender chords, Lorena,
They lived, but only lived to cheat.
I would not cause e'en one regret
To rankle in your bosom now --
"For if we try we may forget,"
Were words of thine long years ago.

Yes, those were words of thine, Lorena --
  They are within my memory yet --
They touched some tender chords, Lorena,
Which thrill and tremble with regret.
'Twas not the woman's heart which spoke --
Thy heart was always true to me;
A duty stern and piercing broke
The tie that linked my soul to thee.

It matters little now, Lorena,
The past is in the eternal past;
Our hearts will soon lie low, Lorena,
Life's tide is ebbing out so fast.
There is a future, oh, thank God!
Of life this is so small a part --
'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod,
But there, up there, 'tis heart to heart.


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THE RISING OF THE MOON


"Come now, tell me, Sean O'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so?"
"Hush mavoughal, hush and listen," and his face was all aglow
"I bear orders from the captain, get you ready quick and soon
With your pike upon your shoulder for the rising of the moon"
By the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon,
With your pike upon your shoulder, By the rising of the moon.

"Come now, tell me, Sean O'Farrell, where the gatherin' is to be?"
"Near the old spot by the river, right well known to you and me"
"One more thing, the signal token?" "Whistle up the marching tune
For our pikes must be together by the rising of the moon"
By the rising of the moon,
By the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together, At the rising of the moon"

Out from many a mud-walled cabin, eyes were lookin' through the night
Many a manly heart was throbin' for the blessed morning light
A cry arose along the river, like some banshee's mournful croon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon
By the rising of the moon,
By the rising of the moon
And a thousand pikes were flashing, By the rising of the moon.

All along the shining river one black mass of men was seen
And above them in the night wind floated our immortal green
Death to every foe and traitor. Onward, strike the marching tune
And hurrah me boys for freedom, 'Tis the rising of the moon".
By the rising of the moon,
By the rising of the moon
And hurrah my boy for freedom; 'Tis the rising of the moon".

Well they fought for dear old Ireland, and full bitter was their fate,
Oh what glorious pride and sorrow fills the name of ninety-eight.
But thank God e'en now are beating hearts in mankind's burning noon,
Who will follow in their footsteps, at the rising of the moon.
By the rising of the moon,
By the rising of the moon
Who would follow in their footsteps, At the risin' of the moon

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ROLL ALABAMA ROLL!


1. In eighteen-hundred and sixty-one,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
This ship's building was begun,
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
2. When the Alabama's keel was laid,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
It was laid in the yard of Jonathan Laird.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
3. It was laid in the yard of Jonathan Laird;
Roll, Alabama, roll!
It was laid in the town of Birkenhead.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
4. At first she was called "the Two-Ninety-Two,"
Roll, Alabama, roll!
For the merchants of the city of Liverpool
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
5. Put up the money to build the ship
Roll, Alabama, roll!
In hopes of driving commerce from the sea.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
6. Down the Mersey ways she rolled then;
Roll, Alabama, roll!
Liverpool fitted her with guns and men.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
7. Down the Mersey she rolled one day,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
And across the Western she plowed her way.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
8. From the Western Isles she sailed forth,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
To destroy the commerce of the North.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
9. To fight the North Semmes did employ
Roll, Alabama, roll!
Ev'ry method to kill and destroy.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
10. The Alabama sailed for two whole years,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
Took sixty-five ships in her career.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
11. With British guns, oh, she was stocked;
Roll, Alabama, roll!
She sailed from Fayal; in Cherbourg she docked.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
12. To Cherbourg port she sailed one day
Roll, Alabama, roll!
To take her count of prize money.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
13. But off Cherbourg the Kearsarge lay tight,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
With Cap'n Winslow spoilin' for a fight.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
14. The Kearsarge with Winslow was waiting there,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
And Semmes challenged them to fight at sea.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
15. Many a sailor lad foresaw his doom,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
When the Kearsarge, it hove in view.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
16. 'Twas a ball from the forward pivot that day,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
Shot the Alabama's steerin' gear away.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
17. 'Twas outside the three-mile limit they fought,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
And Semmes escaped on a fine British yacht.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
18. On June nineteenth, eighteen sixty-four,
Roll, Alabama, roll!
They sent the Alabama to the cold ocean floor.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll!
19. The Kearsarge won; the Alabama so brave
Roll, Alabama, roll!
Sank to the bottom, to a watery grave.
Oh, roll, Alabama, roll 

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PAT MURPHY OF MEAGHER'S BRIGADE 

'Twas the night before battle: and gathered in groups
The soldiers lay close in their quarters;
They were thinking, no doubt, of the dear ones at home...
Of mothers, wives, sisters, and daughters...
With his pipe in his mouth, sat a dashing young blade,
And a son he was lilting quite gaily:
It was honest Pat Murphy, of Meagher's Brigade,
And he sang of the Sprig of Shillaly.

Och, murdher! says Pat, it's a shame for to see
Brothers fighting in such a quare manner:
But I'll fight till I die, If I shouldn't be kilt
For America's bright Starry Banner.
Now, if only it was John Bull to the fore,
I'd rush into battle quite gaily;
For the spalpeen I'd rap with a heart and a half,
With my illigant Sprig of Shillaly!

Jeff Davis you thief! if I had you but here
Your beautiful plans I'd be runnin':
Faix! I'd give ye a taste of me bayonet, bedad!
For thrying to burst up the Union:
There's a crowd in the North, too, an' they're just as bad:
Abolitionist spouters so scaly­
For throubling the negros I think they desarve
A Whack from a Sprig of Shillaly!

The morning soon came, an poor Paddy awoke,
On the Rebels to have satisfaction:
The drummers were beating the divil's tattoo,
Calling the boys into action.
Then, the Irish Brigade in the battle was seen,
Their blood, in our cause, shedding freely;
With their bayonet-charges they rushed on the foe,
With a shout for the Land of Shillaly!

The battle was over .. the dead lay in heaps:
Pat Murphy lay bleeding and gory:
A hole through his head, from rifleman's shot,
Had finished his passion for glory;
No more in the camp shall his laughter be heard,
Or his voice singing ditties so gaily;
Like a hero he died ... for the Land of the Free.
Far away from the Land of Shilialy!

Then, surely, Columbia can never forget.
While valor and fame hold communion.
How nobly the brave Irish Volunteers fought
In defence of the Flag of our Union:
And, if ever Old Ireland for Freedom should strike.
We'll a helping hand offer quite freely:
And the Stars and the Stripes shall be seen along-side
Of the Flag of the Land of Shillaly!

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THE IRISH VOLUNTEER

My name is Tim McDonald, I'm a native of the Isle,
I was born among old Erin's bogs when I was but a child
My father fought in "Ninety-eight," for liberty so dear;
He fell upon old Vinegar Hill, like an Irish volunteer,
Then raise the harp of Erin boys, the flag we all revere -
We'll fight and fall beneath its folds, like Irish volunteers!
Then raise the harp of Erin boys, the flag we all revere -
We'll fight and fall beneath its folds, like Irish volunteers!

When I was driven from my home by an oppressor's hand,
I cut my sticks and greased my brogues, and came o'er to this land,
I found a home and many friends, and some that I love dear;
Be jabers! I'll stick to them like bricks and an Irish volunteer.
Then fill your glasses up, my boys, and drink a hearty cheer
To the land of our adoption, and the Irish volunteer!
Then fill your glasses up, my boys, and drink a hearty cheer
To the land of our adoption, and the Irish volunteer!

Now when the traitors in the South commenced a warlike raid
I quickly then laid down my hod, to the divil went my spade!
To a recruiting office then I went, that happened to be near,
And joined the good old "Sixty-ninth," like an Irish volunteer,
Then fill the ranks and march away! - no traitors do we fear;
We'll drive them all to blazes, says the Irish volunteer.
Then fill the ranks and march away! - no traitors do we fear;
We'll drive them all to blazes, says the Irish volunteer.

When the Prince of Wales came over here, and made a hubbaboo,
Oh, everybody turned out, you know, in gold and tinsel too;
But then the good old Sixty-ninth didn't like these lords or peers -
They wouldn't give a damn for kings, the Irish volunteers!
We love the land of Liberty, its laws we will revere,
"But the divil take nobility!" says the Irish volunteer.
We love the land of Liberty, its laws we will revere,
"But the divil take nobility!" says the Irish volunteer.

Now if the traitors in the South should ever cross our roads,
We'll drive them to the divil as St. Patrick did the toads;
We'll give tham all short nooses that come just below the ears,
Made strong and good from Irish hemp, by Irish volunteers,
Then here's to brave McClellan, whom the army now reveres-
He'll lead us on to victory, the Irish volunteers.
Then here's to brave McClellan, whom the army now reveres-
He'll lead us on to victory, the Irish volunteers.

Now fill your glasses up, my boys, a toast come drink with me,
May Erin's Harp and Starry Flag united ever be;
May traitors quake, and rebels shake, and tremble in their fears,
When next they meet the Yankee boys and Irish volunteers!
God bless the name of Washington! That name this land revers;
Success to Meagher and Nugent, and their Irish volunteers!
God bless the name of Washington! That name this land revers;
Success to Meagher and Nugent, and their Irish volunteers!

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ARMY OF THE FREE
Frank H. Norton

1. In the army of the Union, We are marching in the van,
And will do the work before us, If the bravest soldiers can;
We will drive the Rebel forces From their strongholds to the sea.
And will live and die together In the Army of the Free.
The Army of the Free,
We will live and die together In the Army of the Free.

2. We may rust beneath inaction, We may sink beneath disease
The summer sun may scorch us Or the winter's blast may freeze,
But whatever may befall us, We will let the Rebels see,
The unconquered we shall still remain The Army of the Free.
The Army of the Free,
Unconquered we shall remain The Army of the Free.

3. We are the best division of A half a million souls,
And only resting on our arms Till the war cry onward rolls;
When our gallant General Porter calls, Why ready we shall be,
To follow him forever With the Army of the Free.
The Army of the Free,
We will follow him forever With the Army of the Free.

4. We have Butterfield the daring And we've Martindale the cool,
Where could we learn the art of war Within a better school,
Add Morel to the list of names, And we must all agree,
We have the finest Generals In the Army of the Free.
The Army of the Free,
We have the finest Generals In the Army of the Free.

5. Though we live in winter quarters now, We're waiting but the hour,
When Porter's brave division Shall go forth in all its power,
And when on the field of battle, Fighting we shall be,
We'll show that we cannot disgrace The Army of the Free.
The Army of the Free,
We'll show that we cannot disgrace The Army of the Free.

6. Then hurrah for our division, May it soon be called to go,
To add its strength to those who have Advanced to meet the foe;
God bless it, for we know right well, Wherever it may be,
'Twill never fail to honour our great Army of the Free.
The Army of the Free,
'Twill never fail to honour our great Army of the Free.

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MY FATHERS GUN

Come listen now, I'll tell you how I came to leave Killarney, O
I'm one of the boys that fears no noise, and my name is Paddy Kearney, O
My father's name it was the same, and my grandfather before him, O
He carried a gun in "98," when the green flag floated o'er him, O

CHORUS
Then, O, what fun to see them run, and to leave a name in story, O!
With my father's gun I'll follow the drum, and fight my way to glory, O.

When my father died, to his bedside he called meself, so clever, O!
Says he, "My son, now take this gun, and guard it well forever, O,"
But the dirty laws soon clapped their paws on me, the dirty blaggards, O!
So faix on day, I sailed away to the land of Yankee Doodle, O!

CHORUS

When the rebels raised a hubbaboo, and of Sumter took possession, O,
Instead of a flag they raised a rag - the standard of succession, O;
It's then I joined the "69th," my father's gun to shoulder, O!
For meself, you know, can slather the foe - a divil a one is bolder, O.

CHORUS

I listed then, with Meagher's men, the rebel spalpeens shooting, O
In bould brigade I'm Sergeant made, so here I'm back recruiting, O,
Then boys, step out, the foe to rout; I'll lead you on to glory, O,
And if you're kilt, and your blood is spilt, your name will live in story, O!

CHORUS

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THE LIST OF GENERALS
(Written by Joe English)

Since first the dirty Southern traitors, this foul Secession War began,
Whin all them treacherous alligators, comminced the row at Charleston,
Columbia's flag--the Star of Freedom--still has ruled on land and say;
Fools may rave, but never heed them--to bate our foes we know the way.
Chorus-
Whack, fal de ral, da to ra laddie,
Whack, fal de ral, da to ra lay.
Whack, fal de ral, da to ra laddie,
Whack, fal de ral, da to ra lay.

Volunteers we have by thousands, ginerals trusty, true, and brave;
For the union they arouse, and all would die our flag to save.
Butler down at New Orleans, he kept the rebel host at bay;
On them there to draw the reins, he quickly showed he knew the way.
Chorus-

Gallant Meade, a hero truly, at Gettysburg the foe met he;
And there he gave them Ballyhooly--Oh, how are you, General Lee?
Rosecrans, a soldier thorough--that's a fact none can gainsay--
The rebels met at Murfreesboro, to rout them there he knew the way.
Chorus-

Little Sigel, for the Germans, he has bravely stood the test;
Dix and Banks, Burnside and Sherman, all have nobly done their best.
Gineral Meagher has shown his mettle, Corcoran, too, was in the fray;
The foes of Uncle Sam to settle, the Irish boys they know the way.
Chorus-

Chorus-

Thin there's Gineral Daniel Sickles, from the field ne'er stirs a peg,
The foes catastrophe he tickles--gallant Dan has lost a leg
Gineral Grant he gives them thunder; at Vicksburg he won the day;
Then to make the foe knock under, at Chattanooga, knew the way.
Chorus-

But to call the list of fame, I haven't room now in my song;
For, to go through each Gineral's name, 'twould keep me singing all night long.
But of one more I'll will be telling, and who should be restored straightway,
To put and end to this rebellion--Little Mac he knows the way.
Chorus-

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THE BATTLE CRY OF FREEDOM
by George F. Root
(1820-1895)

Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys,
We'll rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom,
We will rally from the hillside,
We'll gather from the plain,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.

CHORUS: The Union forever,
Hurrah! boys, hurrah!
Down with the traitors,
Up with the stars;
While we rally round the flag, boys,
Rally once again,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.

We are springing to the call
Of our brothers gone before,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And we'll fill our vacant ranks with
A million free men more,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.

CHORUS

We will welcome to our numbers
The loyal, true and brave,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And although they may be poor,
Not a man shall be a slave,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.

CHORUS

So we're springing to the call
From the East and from the West,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom;
And we'll hurl the rebel crew
From the land that we love best,
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom.

CHORUS

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UNION DIXIE
Music: Daniel Decatur Emmett
Words: Anonymous

Away down South in the land of traitors,
Rattlesnakes and alligators,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.
Where cotton's king and men are chattels,
Union boys will win the battles,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.

CHORUS: Then we'll all go down to Dixie,
Away, away,
Each Dixie boy must understand
That he must mind his Uncle Sam,
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.

I wish I was in Baltimore,
I'd make Secession traitors roar,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.
We'll put the traitors all to rout.
I'll bet my boots we'll whip them out,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.

CHORUS: Then they'll wish they were in Dixie,
Away, away,
Each Dixie boy must understand
That he must mind his Uncle Sam,
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.

Oh, may our Stars and Stripes still wave
Forever o'er the free and brave,
Right away, come away, right away, come away.
And let our motto ever be --
"For Union and for Liberty!"
Right away, come away, right away, come away.

CHORUS: Then they'll wish they were in Dixie,
Away, away,
Each Dixie boy must understand
That he must mind his Uncle Sam,
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.
Away, away,
And we'll all go down to Dixie.


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KATHLEEN, MAVOURNEEN
Music by Frederick William Nicholls Crouch

Kathleen, mavourneen, the grey dawn is breaking,
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill.
The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking,
Kathleen, mavourneen, what! Slumbering still?

Oh, hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever?
Oh, hast thou forgotten this day we must part?
It may be for years, and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?
It may be for years and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen, mavourneen?

Kathleen, mavourneen, awake from thy slumbers,
The blue mountains glow in the sun's golden light.
Ah! Where is the spell that once hung on thy numbers,
Arise in thy beauty, thou star of my night!

Mavourneen, mavourneen, my sad tears are falling,
To think that from Erin and thee I must part!
It may be for years, and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart?
It may be for years and it may be forever,
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen, mavourneen?

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TRAMP! TRAMP! TRAMP!
By George F. Root
(1820-1895)

In the prison cell I sit, thinking Mother, dear, of you,
And our bright and happy home so far away,
And the tears, they fill my eyes 'spite of all that I can do,
Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay.

Chorus:

Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching,
Cheer up, comrades, they will come,
And beneath the starry flag we shall breathe the air again
Of the free land in our own beloved home.

In the battle front we stood, when their fiercest charge they made,
And they swept us off a hundred men or more,
But before we reached their lines, they were beaten back dismayed,
And we heard the cry of vict'ry o'er and o'er.

CHORUS

So within the prison cell we are waiting for the day
That shall come to open wide the iron door,
And the hollow eye grows bright, and the poor heart almost gay,
As we think of seeing home and friends once more.

CHORUS

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TENTING ON THE OLD CAMPGROUND
By Walter Kittredge


We're tenting tonight on the old camp ground,
Give us a song to cheer
Our weary hearts, a song of home,
And friends we love so dear.

Chorus: Many are the hearts that are weary tonight,
Wishing for the war to cease;
Many are the hearts that are looking for the right
To see the dawn of peace.
Tenting tonight, tenting tonight, tenting on the old camp ground

We've been tenting tonight on the old camp ground,
Thinking of days gone by,
Of the loved ones at home that gave us the hand
And the tear that said "Goodbye!"

Chorus

We are tired of war on the old camp ground,
Many are dead and gone,
Of the brave and true who've left their homes,
Others been wounded long.

Chorus

We've been fighting today on the old camp ground,
Many are lying near;
Some are dead and some are dying,
Many are in tears.

Final Chorus: Many are the heart that are weary tonight,
Wishing for the war to cease;
Many are the hearts that are looking for the right
To see the dawn of peace
Dying tonight, dying tonight, dying on the old camp ground.

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