The Old gate

CH:
Here with me messmates and Billy O’Toole.
Here wi’ the corporals and Sgt. McDoull.
Here, by the cannons old Henry was felled
It was here by the Old Gate we fought and we held.

Onward they came to the banks of the Ouze.
Silent we stood in that murder of crows.
Down by the old gate we fought and we bled
Down by the old gate they fought and they fled.

“Hold” was the word as we stood in the square.
‘Hold’ was our purpose, our strength and our dare.
Hold by the old gate, they said that we should
Down by the old gate we proved that we could.

Cowards a-plenty but fear was our friend.
Some under twenty and others old men.
Down to the old gate we marched in the dawn
Down by the old gate our story was born.

Memories dim of the blood and the pain.
“Back to the walls” and we did it again.
Down by the old gate, it’s mortar and stone
Down by the old gate we stood there alone.

Some call us crazy who never fought there.
Some call us heros, but little I care.
Some use the old gate to enter the town
But under the old gate we buried our own.