lirik lagu frank harte - grand conversation on napoleon
[verse 1]
’twas o’er that wild and beaten track, a friend of the great bonaparte
he did pace the sands and lofty rocks of saint helena’s shore
well, the wind it blew a hurricane, and the lightning all around did dart
the sea gulls, they were shrieking and the waves did loudly roar
“ah, hush rude winds”, the stranger cried, “whilst i range this dreary spot
where, alas, our gallant hero, his heavy eyes did close
and though his honoured limbs may rot, his name will never be forgot”
and this grand conversation on napoleon arose
[verse 2]
“england”, he cried, “why did you persecute that hero bold?”
“much better had you slain him on the plains of waterloo
for napoleon was, as i’ve been told, a friend to all both young and old
and he caused the money for to fly wherever he did go”
[verse 3]
when plans were arranging night and day this bold comander to betry
he says, “i’ll go to moscow and that will ease my woe
if fortune on me smiles without delay, then all the world will me obey”
and the grand conversation on napoleon arose
[verse 4]
thuosands of men he did arise to conquer moscow by surprise
he took his men across the alps oppressed by frost and snow
but there beneath the russian skies he then began for to open his eyes
for moscow it was blazing and his men drove to and fro
napoleon, he dauntless viewed the flames and wept in anguish for the same
he cried, “retreat my gallant men for time important goes”
oh, what thousands died on that retreat, some were there horses forced to eat
and this grand conversation on napoleon arose
[verse 5]
at waterloo, his men they fought, commanded by brave bonaparte
attended by field marshall ney, but he was bribed with gold
and when blücher led the prussians in, it nearly broke napoleon’s heart
he cried, “my thirty thuosand men are lost and i am sold”
he viewed the plain and o’er it then, his favourite charger he did prance
the plan was in confusion with dead and dying woe
the bunch of roses did advance and boldy entered into france
and this grand conversation on napoleon arose
[verse 6]
napoleon then was doomed to be a prisoner across the sea
and the isle of saint helena, sure, it was the dreadful spot
he was dooemed a prisoner there to be till death would end his misery
his son soon followed to the tomb, it was an awful plot
it’s long enough he has been dead, the blast of war all ’round has spread
and may our shipping float again for to face the daring foe
so ’tis now me boys when honour calls we’ll boldly face those wooden walls
and this grand conversation on napoleon did close
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