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- (continued from previous page)I looked around my comrades three were numbered with the dead.
"Brave souls" I prayed in the morning light
May heaven be your bed
Mac Alister that noble soul, his fame shall never die,
Nor foxmen dare too softly when Irishmen are nigh.
Whene'er I think on your sad face
My heart would almost break
So I call in Robert Emmett who has died for Ireland's sake.Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.
- Sarsfield is the word and Sarsfield is the man
Let England tell before that fight how oft her soldiers ran.
Phil Sheridans work and daring ride full fifty miles away
Retrieved the fortune of a fight mine are none the less I say.(continues on next page)Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.