Eliza And Martin Carthy

Eliza And Martin Carthy - Grand Conversation On Napoleon songtekst

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It was over that wild beaten track 'twas said a friend of Bonaparte's
Did pace the sands & the lofty rocks of St Helena's shore
& the wind it blew a hurricane, the lightnin' fierce around did dart
The seagulls were a-shriekin' & the waves around did roar
Ah hush, rude winds, the stranger cried, while I range the spot
Where alas the gallant hero did his weary eyelids close
& though at peace his limbs do rest, his name will never be forgot
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose

Oh, alas, he cried, why England did you persecute that hero bold?
Much better had you slain him on the plains of Waterloo
For Napoleon he was a friend 2 heroes all, both young & old
He caused the money for 2 fly wherever he did go
When plans were formin' night & day, the bold commander 2 betray
He said, I'll go 2 Moscow & there I'll ease my woes
& if fortune smiles on me that day, then all the world shall me obey
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose

Oh his men in thousands then did rise 2 conquer Moscow by surprise
He led his troops across the Alps oppressed by frost & snow
& bein' near the Russian land, he then began 2 open his eyes
For Moscow was ablazin' & the men drove 2 & fro
Napoleon dauntless viewed the plain & then in anguish at the same
He cried, Retreat me gallant men, for time so swiftly goes
Ah what thousands died in that retreat, some forced their horses for 2 eat
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose

At Waterloo they bravely fought, commanded by this Bonaparte
Field Marshall Ney did him betray, but he was bribed by gold
& when Blucher led the Prussians, it nearly broke Napoleon's heart
He cried, my thirty thousand men are lost, & I am sold
He viewed the plain & cried, all's lost, & then his favorite charger crossed
The plain was in confusion with blood & dyin' woes
& the bunch of roses did advance & boldly entered into France
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose

Oh, this Bonaparte was planned 2 be a prisoner across the sea
The rocks of St Helena, oh, it was his final spot
& as a prisoner there 2 be till death did end his misery
His son soon followed 2 the tomb: it was an awful plot
& long enough have they been dead, the blast of war around us spread
& may our shippin' float again 2 face the darin' foes
& now my boys when honour calls we'll boldly mount those wooden walls
This grand conversation on Napoleon arose
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Taal: Engels

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