From the Mudcat

Subject: Lyr Add: THE MAID OF COOLMORE
From: GUEST,Angun - PM
Date: 26 Mar 00 - 06:02 AM


From sweet Londonderry, to fair London town
There is no finer harbour, anywhere to be found
Where the children each evening go down to the shore
And the joybells are ringing for the maid of Coolmore

The first time I saw her she passed me by
And the next time that I saw her she bid me goodbye
The last time that I saw her she grieved my heart sore.
For she sailed down Loch Foylen and away from Coolmore

If I had the power the storms for to rise
I would make the wind blow high and darken the skies
I would make the wind blow high and the salt seas to roar.
To the day that my darling sailed away from Coolmore

To the back parts of Americay my love I'll go see
And it's there I know no-one and no-one knows me,
And If I don't find her I'll return home no more
Like a pilgrim I wander for the maid of Coolmore