By the margin of the ocean
|
One pleasant evening in the month of June
|
The pleasant singing blackbird
|
His charming notes to tune
|
Then I saw a woman
|
All in great grief and woe
|
Conversing with young Bonaparte
|
Concerning the bonny bunch of roses, oh
|
|
And then up and spoke the Young Napoleon
|
And he took hold of his mother's hand
|
Oh mother dear be patient
|
And soon I will take command
|
I'll raise a terrible army
|
And through tremendous danger go
|
And in spite of all of the universe
|
I'll conquer the Bonny Bunch of Roses, oh
|
|
And when first you saw the Great Napoleon
|
You fell down on your bended knee
|
And you asked your father's life of him
|
And he's granted it most manfully
|
Then he took an army
|
And over the frozen alps did go
|
He said I'll conquer Moscow
|
And come back for the Bonny Bunch of Roses, oh
|
|
And so he's took three hundred thousand fighting men
|
And kings likewise for to join his throng
|
He was as well provided for
|
Enough to take the whole world along
|
But when he came to Moscow
|
All overpowered by driving snow
|
And Moscow was a-blazing
|
And he lost the Bonny Bunch Of Roses-o
|
|
Oh my son don't speak so venturesome
|
For England she has a heart of oak
|
And England and Ireland and Scotland
|
Their unity has never been broke
|
So son think on your father
|
In St.Helena, his body it lies low
|
And you will follow after
|
Beware of the Bonny Bunch of Roses, oh
|
|
And it's goodbye to my mother forever
|
For I am on my dying bed
|
Had I lived I might have been clever
|
But now I bow my youthful head
|
And while our bodies do molder
|
And weeping willows over us do grow
|
The deeds of brave Napoleon
|
Will sting the bonny bunch of roses-o
|
|
-----------------
|
The Bonny Bunch Of Roses
|
| John Wesley Harding |
