The Irish Soldier
The Irish Soldier
Edward Marshall is my name
Ireland is my nation
Leeds is my dwelling place
And Heaven’s my expectation
My mother came from Erin’s isle
She’s buried in Dungannon
My sweetheart is a Limerick lass
The Rosebud of the Shannon
I came to Blighty seeking work
And listed for a soldier
For when the drums of war beat out
There is no man that’s bolder
They gave me three square meals a day
A uniform for drilling
A place to sleep, a private’s pay
A gun and blade for killing
I dreamt to Ireland I’d return
With gold and tales a-plenty
But on a stretcher here I lie
And both my pockets empty
They’ll patch me up and send me back
To trenches, rats and slaughter
Gas! Gas! the cry. For sure I’ll die
By bomb or poisoned water
My soul will go to God above
My body cannot follow
For ‘twill be filled by German lead
Dead, in a war-torn hollow
Edward Marshall is my name
Ireland is my nation
Leeds is my dwelling place
And Heaven’s my expectation
poem by Sheena Blackhall
Added by Poetry Lover
Comment! | Vote! | Copy!
No comments until now.