When I Was On Horseback

When I was on horseback, wasn’t I pretty

When I was on horseback, wasn’t I brave

Wasn’t I pretty when I rode through Cork City

And met with my downfall on the fourteenth of May.

There’s four white horses with black plumes and roses

Here’s four white horses to walk by my side

There’s four white horses to carry my coffin

With birds softly singing as we go along.

Now beat the drum slowly and play the pipes lowly

Play up the dead-march as we go along

Bring me to Tipperary and lay me down easy

I am a young soldier that never done wrong.