Sentenced To Death Lyrics. Irish Rebel Song
I came across this while doing a bit of research on songs that were written about patriots without giving their names, this is one such song. The author is unknown, I don't know what tune it's set to so no chords at present.
The grey dawn had crept o'er the stillness of morning.
The dewdrops had glistened like icicles breath. The note of the bugle had sounded its warning,
A young Irish soldier boy [ lyrics ] lay sentenced to death.
No cold-blooded murder had stained his pure conscience,
He called as a witness his Maker on high,
He'd simply been fighting for Ireland's lost freedom,
Arrested and tried he lay sentenced to die.
Chorus:
Then leave him away on the hillside,
Along with the brave and the bold. Inscribe his name on a scroll of fame,
In letters of purest gold.
My conscience will never convict me,
He said with his last dying breath,
And may God bless the cause of our freedom.
For which I lay sentenced to death.
He thought of his good broken-hearted old mother, He thought of his colleen so dear to his heart. The cords of affection he scarcely could smother,
Well knowing how soon from them both he must part. He cared not to die though his heart was near broken,
'Twas simple remembrance of those he loved well, His Bible he pressed to his heart as a token,
Its words cheered his soul, in that prison's cold cell.
To the old barrack square they marched the young hero,
The bandage he tore from his eyes in disdain.
You may think I'm afraid of a crime-sodden Nero.
I'd die for my country again and again.
I blame not my comrades for doing their duty,
Aim straight at my heart, were the last words he said. Exposing his breast to the point of the rifles,
The smoke cleared away, the young hero lay dead
The dewdrops had glistened like icicles breath. The note of the bugle had sounded its warning,
A young Irish soldier boy [ lyrics ] lay sentenced to death.
No cold-blooded murder had stained his pure conscience,
He called as a witness his Maker on high,
He'd simply been fighting for Ireland's lost freedom,
Arrested and tried he lay sentenced to die.
Chorus:
Then leave him away on the hillside,
Along with the brave and the bold. Inscribe his name on a scroll of fame,
In letters of purest gold.
My conscience will never convict me,
He said with his last dying breath,
And may God bless the cause of our freedom.
For which I lay sentenced to death.
He thought of his good broken-hearted old mother, He thought of his colleen so dear to his heart. The cords of affection he scarcely could smother,
Well knowing how soon from them both he must part. He cared not to die though his heart was near broken,
'Twas simple remembrance of those he loved well, His Bible he pressed to his heart as a token,
Its words cheered his soul, in that prison's cold cell.
To the old barrack square they marched the young hero,
The bandage he tore from his eyes in disdain.
You may think I'm afraid of a crime-sodden Nero.
I'd die for my country again and again.
I blame not my comrades for doing their duty,
Aim straight at my heart, were the last words he said. Exposing his breast to the point of the rifles,
The smoke cleared away, the young hero lay dead