Men have done brave deeds
And bards have sung them well.
But I, of a young girl’s bravery,
Now a tale will tell.
They was up on the Lawrence’s hilltop
Close to the Fairbanks wall.
They had been picking wild red raspberries
When she heard her mother’s call.
She grabbed her rifle from the ground,
Knowing one shell was all
And at the mad pursuing bull
She sent the only ball.
From her lips there came no murmur,
But from her heart their went a prayer
And when she opened her eyes to the sunshine
She knew that God was there.
Cause just three feet
From her mother’s listless form
Lay the mad bull’s