By the margin of the ocean,
One pleasant evening in the month of June,
The pleasant-singing blackbird
His charming notes did tune.
Was there I spied a woman
All in great grief and woe,
Conversing with young Bonaparte
Concerning the bonny bunch of roses-O
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-O.”
“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.
'Twas then he took an army
And o'er the frozen alps did go;
And he said, “I'll conquer Moscow
And come back for the bonny bunch of roses-O.”
“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 alone.
But when he came to Moscow
All o'erpowered by driving snow
And Moscow was a-blazing,
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.
And so my 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-O.”
“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 moulder
And weeping willows over us do grow,
The deeds of brave Napoleon
Will sting the bonny bunch of roses-O.”
By the margin of the ocean,
One pleasant evening in the month of June,
The pleasant-singing blackbird
His charming notes did tune.
Was there I spied a female
All in great grief and woe,
Conversing with young Bonaparte
Concerning the bonny bunch of roses-O
