Banks of the Nile - Muireann Nic Amhlaoibh

Oh hark, the drums do beat, my love, no longer can we stay

The bugle horns are sounding clear, and we must march away

We’re ordered down to Portsmouth, and it’s many’s the weary mile

To join the British Army on the banks of the Nile

Oh Johnny, dearest Johnny, don’t leave me here to mourn

Don’t make me curse and rue the day that ever I was born

For the parting of our love would be like parting with my life

I’ll go with you, dear Johnny, and I will be your wife

Oh my Nancy, dearest Nancy, that’s a thing that can’t be so

The colonel, he has ordered no woman there should go

We must forsake our own sweethearts, likewise our native soil

To fight the German soldiers on the banks of the Nile

But I’ll cut off my yellow hair and go along with you

I’ll dress myself in uniform and I’ll see Egypt, too

I’ll march beneath your banner while fortune, it do smile

And we’ll comfort one another on the banks of the Nile

But your waist, it is too slender, love, your fingers, they

are too small

And the sultry suns of Egypt your rosy cheeks would spoil

Where the cannons, they do rattle, and the bullets, they do fly

And the silver trumpets sound so loud to hide the dismal cries

Oh cursed be those cruel wars that ever they began

For they have robbed old Ireland of many’s the gallant man

They took from us our own sweethearts while their bodies,

they feed the lions

On the dry and sandy deserts which are the banks of the Nile