The Great Green Line, New England’s Pine

A song in tribute to all free Yankees that have fallen.

Tune: Under the red, red hand.

I’ve been enslaved this day,

By the Normans in grey,

And forced to take leave by decree,

In the North-East,

Bury me at the least,

Under our Great Pine Tree!

Under the great green line,

That is New England’s Pine,

That’s hoisted up by all the free,

Within this Yankee clime,

So beneath its undying needles, (or: deathless needles)

Will you plant my ash afields,

Under our Great Green Pine.

Here I am a Yankee,

In Mid-West slav’ry,

But to our way I stay Loyal and Free,

I should still fight in the trench,

‘Gainst this Redneckish hench*,

To protect our liberty tree (or: hold the line for liberty’s pine)

Under the great green line,

That is New England’s Pine,

That’s hoisted up by all the free,

Within this Yankee clime,

So beneath its undying needles, (or: deathless needles)

Will you plant my ash afields,

Under our Great Green Pine.

Though I await to be shot,

Pray, forget freedom not,

New England shall ever prevail,

If there is still one Yankee,

He must yearn to be free,

Under our Great Pine Tree,

Under the great green line,

That is New England’s Pine,

That’s hoisted up by all the free,

Within this Yankee clime,

So beneath its undying needles, (or: deathless needles)

Will you plant my ash afields,

Under our Great Green Pine.

Under a sovereign New England,

That our forefathers demand,

That is upheld free, loyal, fine,

As found in Yankee rhyme,

So beneath its immortal needles, (or: living needles)

Will you find my soul afields,

Under our Great Green Pine.

*A poetic, if rather unusual, three-way word-play:

I. The common meaning, abbreviated, of a thuggish henchman

II. The original etymology, calling them a horse (hengest)

III. Another allusion to the Normans, specifically their cavalry