Aloys Fleischmann - Clare's Dragoons скачать в хорошем качестве

Aloys Fleischmann - Clare's Dragoons

Cork composer, Aloys Fleischmann's majestic tribute to 17th/18th-century Ireland's emigré soldiers. Lyrics by Thomas Davis (Had to cut off the first minute or so.) Clare's Dragoons When on Ramillie's bloody field, The baffled French were forced to yield, The victor Saxon backward reeled Before the charge of Clare's Dragoons. The Flags we conquered in that fray, Look lone in Ypres' choir, they say, We'll win them company to-day, Or bravely die like Clares Dragoons. Chorus: Viva la for Ireland's wrong! Viva la, for Ireland's right! Viva la in battle throng, For a Spanish steed, and sabre bright! The brave old Lord died near the fight, But, for each drop he lost that night, A Saxon cavalier shall bite The dust before Lord Clare's Dragoons, For never when our spears were set And never, when our sabres met, Could we the Saxon soldiers get To stand the shock of Clare's Dragoons. Viva la, the New Brigade! Viva la, the Old One too! Viva la, the rose shall fade, And the shamrock shine forever new! Another Clare is here to leasd, The worthy son of such a breed; The French expect some famous deed, When Clare leads on his bold Dragoons. Our Colonel comes from Brians race, His wounds are in his breast and face, The bearna baoghail is still his place, The foremost of his bold Dragoons. Viva la, the New Brigade! Viva la, the Old One too! Viva la, the rose shall fade, And the shamrock shine forever new! There's not a man in squadron here Was ever known to flinch or fear; Though first in charge and last in rere, Have ever been Lord Clare's Dragoons; But, see! We'll soon have work to do, To shame our boasts, or prove them true, For hither comes the English crew, To sweep away Lord Clare's Dragoons. Viva la for Ireland's wrong! Viva la, for Ireland's right! Viva la in battle throng, For a Spanish steed, and sabre bright! Oh! Comrades! Think how Ireland pines, Her exiled Lords, her rifled shrines, Her dearest hope, the ordered lines, And bursting charge of Clare's Dragoons, The fling your Green Flag to the sky, Be "Limerick!" your battle cry, And charge, till blood floats fetlock-high, Around the track of Clare's Dragoons! Viva la, the New Brigade! Viva la, the Old One too! Viva la, the rose shall fade, And the shamrock shine forever new!