Excerpt from Shea of the Irish Brigade: A Soldier's Story

"Oh, the fighting races don't die out,

If they seldom die in bed,

For love is first in their hearts, no doubt,"

Said Burke, then Kelly said:

"When Michael, the Irish archangel, stands,

The angel with the sword,

And the battle-dead from a hundred lands

Are ranged in one big horde,

Our line, that for Gabriel's trumpet waits,

Will stretch three deep that day,

From Jehosaphat to the Golden Gates -

Kelly and Burke and Shea."

"Well here's thank God for the race and the sod!"

Said Kelly and Burke and Shea.

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