Grave Of Bonaparte de Misc Country

Grave Of Bonaparte - Misc Country sur Guitariff.net
			 
		   THE GRAVE OF BONAPARTE

Traditional, Arr. N. & N. Blake

G                                 C             D
On a lone, barren isle, where the wild, roaring billows
                              G            D
Assail the stern rock and the loud tempest raves,
    G                         C            G
The hero lies still where the dew drooping willows
     C             G              D        G
Like fond, weeping mourners, lean over his grave
         D                           G            C
     The lightning may flash and the loud thunder rattle.
                  G                  D     A       D
     He eats not, he hears not, he's free from all pain.
        G                             C               G
     He sleeps his last sleep, he has fought his last battle.
        C         G            D      G
     No sound can awake him to glory again.
                   C           D      G
     No sound can awake him to glory again.

G                             C           D
Oh shade of the mighty, where now are the legions
                                 G               D
That rushed but to conquer, when thou ledst them on?
 G                          C         G
Alas, they have perished in far hilly regions,
    C             G              D          G
And all, save the fame, of their triumph is gone.
         D                         G           C
     The trumpet may sound and the loud cannon rattle.
                        G                 D    A        D
     They eat not, they hear not, they're free from all pain.
          G                                 C                 G
     They sleep their last sleep, they have fought their last battle.
        C          G            D      G
     No sound can awake them to glory again.
                   C            D      G
     No sound can awake them to glory again.

G                         C           D
Yet, spirit immortal, the tomb cannot bind thee.
                               G             D
For like thine own eagle, that soared to the Sun,
     G                           C         G
Thou springest from bondage, and leavest behind thee,
  C             G             D          G
A name which, before thee, no mortal had won.
          D                       G             C
     Tho' nations may combat, and war's thunder rattle,
                    G               D     A        D
     No more on thy steed wilt thou sweep o'er the plain.
          G                                  C               G
     Thou sleep'st thy last sleep, thou hast fought thy last battle.
        C          G            D      G
     No sound can awake thee to glory again.
                   C             D      G
     No sound can awake thee  to glory again.


See ya

-Bo Parker
Bo.Parker@msfc.nasa.gov ( - MAIL to this address.
                            REPLIES to this address will probably bounce.)

"And if one more person says to me, they can't stand the "twang," I think
 I just might gingerly poke 'em in the eye. This is not like eating okra."

                                                       --Linda Ellis