Grand Conversation Grand Conversation on Sebastopol Arose!
As the western powers of Europe united all together,
In close deliberation they did appear to be,
And all their conversation seemed a grand determination,
To seize upon Sebastopol and set poor Turkey free!
When up steps Omar Pasha, saying here I am amongst you—
My country has been oppressed by tyranny and woes,
But now England and France in tens of thousands we’ll advance,
This grand conversation on Sebastopol arose.
The twentieth of September we ever shall remember,
Upon the heights of Alma we made the Russians run,
After a weary marching the day was hot and scorching,
We fought the first great battle by the setting of the sun,
Like hearts of oak we bounded and the enemy wounded,
And when the bugle sounded to charge our mighty foes,
For England’s home and beauty we nobly did our duty,
This grand conversation on Sebastopol arose.
Through rivers, brooks, and fountains, up hills and lofty mountains,
Our Generals were mounted in armour bright array,
Light infantry advancing with glittering bayonets glancing,
Upon the heights of Alma we showed them British play,
The cannons roared like thunder we cut their ranks asunder,
Though not an equal number unto our mighty foes,
We drove them from their quarters and made a dreadful slaughter,
This grand conversation on Sebastopol arose.
The cannons loud did rattle all in the field of battle,
To see the dead and wounded would grieve your heart full sore,
Through fields of blood we waded the enemy invaded,
As we beheld our comrades weltering in their gore,
With one determination and one loud exclamation,
We went with desperation against our mighty foes,
We cut them in succession of their guns we took possession,
This grand conversation on Sebastopol arose.
Lord Raglan that commander was brave as Alexander,
Describes this dreadful battle the first upon record,
The legions of France by the side of old England,
The power of the Russians could not them retard,
With fire and smoke around us nothing could confound us,
We gained the heights of Alma regardless of our foes,
Though hundreds fell upon the field we made the enemy to yield,
This grand conversation on Sebastopol arose.
The brave thirty-third and twenty-third regiments,
Also the ninty-fifth and the seventh fusiliers,
Under Sir Colin Campbell the gallant highlanders,
Died on the field of battle with the brave grenadiers,
Like lions they marched in the face of the cannon,
While hundreds lay bleeding as you may suppose,
They conquered and died on the hill of the Alma,
This grand conversation on Sebastopol arose.