1. |
Across the Blue Mountain
04:02
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One morning, one morning,
one morning in May,
I overheard a married man
to a young girl say,
Go dress you up, pretty Katie,
and come along with me,
Across the Blue Mountain
to the Allegheny.
I’ll buy you a horse love,
and a saddle to ride,
I’ll buy myself another
to ride by your side,
We’ll stop at every tavern,
we’ll drink when we’re dry,
Across the Blue Mountain,
goes my Katie and I.
Then up spoke the mother,
and angry she was then,
Oh daughter, Oh daughter,
he is a married man,
And there’s plenty of young men
more handsome than he,
So let him take his own wife
to the Allegheny.
Oh mother, Oh mother,
he’s the man of my heart,
And wouldn’t it be a dreadful thing
if we were to part,
I’d envy every woman that I’d ever see,
Go across the Blue Mountain
to the Allegheny.
We left before daybreak
on a buckskin and roan,
Past tall shimmering pines
where mockingbirds moan,
Past dark cabin windows
where eyes never see,
Across the Blue Mountains
to the Allegheny.
Past dark cabin windows
where eyes never see,
Across the Blue Mountains
to the Allegheny.
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2. |
The Road to La Coruna
04:41
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The riflemen, we marched in line across the Spanish hills.
Our boots were gone, our feet were bled out in the winter chill.
From Napoleon’s men we beat a long retreat,
Through the frozen mountain snow, on to reach our fleet.
The women and the children trailed like shadows in behind.
Famished for the want of food and weakened by the miles,
With frost in their hair and only rags to wear,
The thought of their suffering was more than we could bear.
CHORUS
The road to La Coruña was harder than hell.
The weak and the wounded they died where they fell.
On each and every hill we climbed,
we strained to see the shore,
And longed to be sailing on homeward once more.
And when we reached Coruña, the French were close at hand.
General Moore he gave his life to make a final stand.
We buried him in Spain wrapped in his martial cloak,
And as Napoleon’s cannon roared they boarded us for home.
CHORUS
In Dublin, we were tempted by the Rifles’ uniform,
In Spain, our road to glory it was ragged and forlorn.
For battle we were primed but no one can prepare,
For the wicked ways of war for suffering and despair.
CHORUS
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3. |
Willie O
03:24
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My Willie sailed upon a tender,
And where he is I do not know.
For seven long years I am constantly waiting,
Since he crossed the Bay of Biscay O.
One night as Mary lay a-sleeping,
A knock came to her bedroom door,
Saying “Arise Arise, my lovely Mary,
till you have one glimpse of your Willie O.”
Young Mary rose, put on her clothing,
And opened wide the bedroom door,
And there she spied her Willie standing,
His two pale cheeks as white as snow.
“O Willie dear, where are those blushes,
Those blushes I knew many years ago?”
“O Mary dear the wild waves dashed them,
I am only the ghost of your Willie O.”
“O Mary dear, the dawn is breaking,
I fear it’s time for me to go.
I am leaving you quite broken hearted,
For to cross the Bay of Biscay O.
If I had all the gold and money,
And all the silver in Mexico,
I would grant it all to the King of Erin,
For to bring me back my Willy O”
My Willie sailed upon a tender …
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4. |
Sweet Daffodil Mulligan
02:41
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I’m Daffodil Mulligan, Biddy’s young girl.
And the young fellas call me a peach and a pearl.
I was born at the daffodil time of the year,
So they just called me Daffy, now maybe
that’s queer.
CHORUS
For I’m sweet Daffodil Mulligan, I am,
All me ancestors come from the Coombe,
And I’m just another, the spit of me mother,
The lady who lives in one room, down in
Francis Street. Sweet Daffodil Mulligan, fresh fish!
Like the sweet Blarney roses that bloom,
I’m bright, hale and hearty, the life of the party,
I’m Daffy, the belle of the Coombe, fresh fish!
It was down in Pine Forest, shady and dim,
That I first met my Jemmy, so tall and so slim,
It was on an excursion, the girls all looked swell,
But I took the biscuit and Jem’s heart as well.
CHORUS
We were married in August when Jem was on strike.
And he took me to Bray on the back of his bike,
Now the strike is all over and Jem, bless his soul,
Has settled down steadily drawing the dole.
CHORUS
… Fresh fish!
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5. |
Shores of Lough Bran
04:03
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Sit you down loyal comrades, sit you down for a
while, ’Til I spend my last hours in Erin’s green isle.
Come fill up your glasses and we’ll drink hand in
hand, For tomorrow I’ll be leaving the shores of
Lough Bran.
There’s my father and mother you can now hear
their cry, With their tears bewailing, would
moisten your eye. But I will assist them, please God,
if I can, far away from lovely Erin and the shores
of Lough Bran.
No more will I ramble ’round Hartnett’s green hills.
And the place I love dearest is down by the mill.
It’s great fertile valley where oft times I ran,
And inhaled the fresh breezes round the shores
of Lough Bran.
Our fathers before us were forced for to roam.
’Twas the laws of coercion drove them from their
home. But the Heavens made for Ireland a scheme
and a plan, That sent our sons roaming like wild
geese from Lough Bran.
In the oncoming morning I’ll be bidding adieu,
To Leitrim, Drumshanbo and sweet Carrick too.
But no matter what fortunes I may make far away
My thoughts will be with you by night and by day.
My thoughts will be with you, while life’s course is
spanned, far away from lovely Erin and the shores
of Lough Bran.
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6. |
Valentine O'Hara
04:23
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I am a proud young highwayman named Valentine
O’Hara. I come from poor but honest folk nigh
to the Hill of Tara. For the getting of a maid with
child to England I sailed over, I left my parents and
became a wild and daring rover.
Straight to London I did go where I became a
soldier, Resolved to fight Britannia’s foe no sergeant
at arms was bolder. They sent me to a foreign shore
where cannons loud do rattle, Believe me boys,
I do not boast how I behaved in battle.
Many’s the battle I fought in, in Holland and
French Flanders. I always fought with courage keen
led on by brave commanders. ’Til a cruel ensign
called me out and I was flogged and carted,
Cruel the usage that I got and so I soon deserted.
Back to London I did go, as fast as ship could heave
me. Resolved that of my liberty no man could e’er
deny me. I slept into the woods at night by all my
friends forsaken. I dare not walk the road by day for
fear I might be taken.
But I being of a courage bold and likewise
able-bodied, I robbed Lord Lowndes on the King’s
highway with pistols, heavy loaded. I strapped my
charges to his breast, which made his heart a quiver,
Five hundred pounds in ready gold to me he
did deliver.
With part of my new gold in store I bought a
famous gelding. That could jump over a five
bar gate I bought him from Ned Fielding. Lord
Arkenstone into his coach I robbed at Covent
Garden, And two hours later that same night,
I robbed the Earl of Warren.
One night, on Turnham green I robbed a revenue
collector, And what I got from him I gave to a
widow to protect her. I always rob the rich and great
to rob the poor I shun it, And now they leave me to
my fate in iron chains adorned.
Straight to Newgate I am bound and by the law
convicted, For to hang on Tyburn Tree is my fate,
for which I’m much a-frightened. Farewell my
friends and countrymen and my native Hill of Tara,
Kind providence will test the soul of Valentine
O’Hara.
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7. |
Lappin
05:27
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’Twas the year before the Rising of 1798,
Lappin the blacksmith befell his sad fate.
Tortured and slain by the Crown’s evil hand,
For the making of pikes in defence of his land.
And the neighbours they met by the old
market-stone, Where they pieced out their linen,
their plans to disguise. But the Crown’s Captain
Farnan, he maintained her vile ways, With the
promise of silver to sweeten the spies.
And it’s cold blow the winds o’er Glenndeise, bitter
the legacy born. Sad are the days lie before us, our
brave Thomas Lappin is gone.
The Yeomanry came in the dead of the night,
Farnan took pride in his task. They dragged out
poor Lappin and the neighbours they knelt,
And prayed for his soul as they passed.
They tortured and flogged him, his comrades to
name. And for three days their blows, he defied.
His screams from the barracks at Belmont rang out,
At the end of the fourth day, he died.
And it’s cold blow the winds o’er Glenndeise,
bitter the legacy born, Sad are the years lie before us,
our brave Thomas Lappin is gone.
The people despaired that the cause it was lost,
As they laid him by Urnai’s sweet stream.
But the Blacksmith of Carrive, his spirit lived on,
Forged hard in the people who stood by his dream.
That each woman and man has a right to be free,
In spite of race, colour or creed,
Each woman and man as all equals should be,
As you cut down the flower you will scatter the seed.
And it’s cold blow the winds o’er Glenndeise,
bitter the legacy born, Sad are the years lie before us,
our brave Thomas Lappin is gone.
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8. |
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Come fill a glass, let’s drink a toast,
This night we’ll merry be.
Here’s to harmony and friendship free,
Likewise my comrades three.
To meet you all once more my friends,
A sacred joy I’ll feel,
While faraway I now must stray,
’Til fortune turns her wheel.
It’s not fine clothes or gold you know,
That’s the estimate of man.
For when we meet a friend in straits,
We shake a friendly hand.
With them I sit, with them I drink,
To them my mind reveal,
And friends we’ll stay whatever way,
Blind fortune turns her wheel.
But oh I loved a bonny lad,
And it’s him I’ll justly blame.
For when hard fortune on me frowned,
He denied he knew my name.
But falsehood by remorse is paid,
To him I’ll never kneel.
I’ll sweethearts find both fair and kind,
When fortune turns her wheel.
Some of my pretended friends,
If friends I may them call,
Prove false and turned their back on me,
When mine was at the wall.
But in a glass I’ll let it pass,
I’m sure I wish them well,
If my heart’s fate on them await,
May fortune turn her wheel.
Adieu to you my Dublin town,
Likewise sweet Baile Dúill.
For friendship binds the strongest ties,
Love tells the softest tales.
Adieu to you my comrades here,
I know you wish me well,
And maybe yet I’ll pay my debt,
When fortune turns her wheel.
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9. |
The Slave's Lament
03:34
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It was in sweet Senegal,
That my foes did me enthral,
For the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O!
Torn from that lovely shore,
And must never see it more,
And alas! I am weary, weary, O!
All on that charming coast,
Is no bitter snow and frost,
Like the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O!
There streams for ever flow,
And the flowers for ever blow,
And alas! I am weary, weary, O!
The burden I must bear,
While the cruel scourge I fear,
In the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O!
And I think on friends most dear
With the bitter, bitter tear,
And alas! I am weary, weary, O!
It was in sweet Senegal
That my foes did me enthral
For the lands of Virginia, -ginia, O!
Torn from that lovely shore,
And must never see it more,
And alas! I am weary, weary, O!
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10. |
The Monaghan Jig
05:41
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11. |
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After Aughrim’s great disaster when our foe in sooth was master,
It was you who first plunged in and swam the Shannon’s boiling flood.
And through Slieve Bloom’s dark passes you led our Gallowglasses,
Although the hungry Saxon wolves were howling for our blood.
And as we crossed Tipperary we broke the clan O’Leary,
And drove a creacht before us as our horsemen onward came.
With our swords and spears we gored them and through flood and
night we bore them,
Still Seán Ó Duibhir a Ghleanna we were worsted in the game.
Long long we held the hillside, our couch it was the rillside
The sturdy oaken boughs our curtain overhead.
The summer blaze we laughed at, the winter snows we scoffed at,
And trusted in our long broad swords to win our daily bread.
Then the Dutchmen’s troops they found us in fire and steel they
bound us.
They blazed the woods and mountains till the very sky was flamed.
Yet our sharpened swords cut through them, through their coats
of mail we hewed them,
But Seán Ó Duibhir a Ghleanna we were worsted in the game.
’Twas all night in woeful sorrow we waited for the morrow,
Alone upon the mountain top we lingered for the dawn.
To see beneath us, spreading, field and farm and steading,
Hill and dale and valley, meadow, moor and bog.
Our good ship then we sought her, where rose the deep Blackwater.
The river’s bright and pungent to swell her bosom came.
From all the farewell taking, from sad hearts sore and aching,
Ah, but Seán Ó Duibhir a Ghleanna we were worsted in the game.
Here’s a health to your and my king, the sovereign of our liking.
And to Sarsfield underneath whose flag we’ll cast once more a chance.
For the morning’s dawn will bring us across the sea and wing us,
To take a stand and wield a brand among the sons of France.
And though we part in sorrow, still Seán Ó Duibhir a chara,
Our prayer is, ‘God save Ireland and pour blessings on her name,’
May her sons be true when needed, may they never feel as we did,
For Seán Ó Duibhir a Ghleanna we were worsted in the game.
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12. |
Carrickfergus
06:55
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I wish I was in Carrickfergus, only for nights in Ballygran,
I would swim over the deepest ocean, the deepest ocean my love to find.
But the sea is wide and I cannot cross over, and neither have I the wings to fly.
I wish I had a handsome boatman to ferry me over, my love and I.
My childhood days bring back sad reflections of happy hours I spent so long ago.
My boyhood friends and my own relations have all passed on now like drifting snow.
But I’ll spend my days in endless roving, soft is the grass my bed is free,
Oh to be back now in Carrickfergus on that long road down to the sea.
And in Kilkenny it is reported of marble stones there as black as ink,
With gold and silver I would support her, but I’ll sing no more now till I get a drink.
For I’m drunk today and I’m seldom sober, a handsome rover from town to town,
Ah but I’m sick now, my days are numbered. Come all you young men and lay me down.
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Niamh Parsons MH, Ireland
Niamh is a professional traditional and folk singer from Dublin. Influenced by the '60s folk revival, and learning songs from an early age, she turned professional in 1991. With 7 albums of songs, Niamh has toured the world, bringing her choice of songs to wider audiences and giving workshops throughout USA and Europe. Niamh also teachers online and mentors performers in singing and stagecraft. ... more
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