Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigaide

The night before a battle
All through the camp
The soldiers lay close in their quarters
They were thinking, no doubt
Of their loved ones at home;
Mothers, wives, children, and daughters

Far away in the East, sat a dashing young blade
And a song he was singing so gaily
It was honest Pat Murphy of the Irish Brigade
And he sang of the sprig of Shillelagh

"Well now" Says Pat, "What a pity to see
Brothers fighting in such a strange manner
But I'll fight 'til I die
And I'll surely be killed
For America's bright starry banner
It was only John Bole, who adhered to the four
I would rush into battle so gaily
And I'd let her away, with a heart and a hand
With me elegant sprig of shillelagh"

The morning then came
And Patty arose, on the rebels
To have satisfaction
The drummer was beating "The Devil's Tattoo"
Calling the boys into action!
And the Irish Brigade in the battle was seen
Their blood, for the cause, shedding freely
As with bayonet charges, they marched on the foe
With a shout; "For the land of shillelagh!"

The battle was over
The dead lay in heaps
Pat Murphy lay bleeding and gory
A hole in his head from a rifleman's shot
Had ended his passion for glory
No more in the camp, will 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 Shillelagh

Then surely Colombia will never forget
Where valor and fame hold communion
How boldly those brave Irish Volunteers fought
In defense of the flag of the Union
And if ever 'Ol Ireland, assistance does need
Our call we'd be heeding quite gaily
And the stars and the stripes will be seen alongside
Of the flag of the land of Shillelagh

Far away in the East, sat a dashing young blade
And a song he was singing so gaily
It was honest Pat Murphy of Meagher's Brigade
And he sang of the sprig of Shillelagh