The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #35384 Message #4199753
Posted By: GUEST,Rory
25-Mar-24 - 10:11 PM
Thread Name: Lyr Req: Dearthrain O mo Chroi
Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Dearthrain O mo Chroi
Earliest printings of this song can be found in broadsides from the 1840's.
These from the Bodleian Library Broadside Ballads
"Drecharain O'Machree" Printer: Wm. Wright (Birmingham) Between 1842 and 1855
I am a young fellow that always lov’d rural sport To the towns and cities of Erin I used to resort, Where the true sons of Bacchus were chiefly my company, Until I was deprived of my Drecharian O’Machree.
In Dublin's fair city my brother was first press’d away, On board of the tender to cross o’er the raging sea Where the cannons do rattle, and bullets came rolling by. Perhaps in that battle my Diecbarian O, does lie
When we liv’d together we did each other adore This green little island we rambled o’er and o’er. We work’d at our trade, and our earnings we spent quite free, Until I was deprived of my Drecharian O'Machiee
The womb turn’d to earth that birth gave to my brother and me, And also my father is gone to eternity ! Like babes in the forest poor forlorn orphans are we, Which mikes me lament for my Drecharian O'Machree.
Great measures of treasures be with him wherever he be, Dispersion of pleasure and human felicity, Where gold is their God, and the copper eternity Which makes me lament for my Drecharian O’Machree.
If Providence would aid me and send me wherever he lie. My life and existence I would venture to set him free, Like a true loyal brother I’d fight for him manfuly Anil die in the arms of my Dreiharian O’Machree
The name of a nymph that Jupiter did admire, The head and tail of a fowl you must inquire, The name of a beast exchang'd in a letter or three Will tell you the name of my Drecbarian O 'Machree
"Drahareen O ma chree" Printer: Haly (Cork) Before 1850
I am a young fellow, That always loved rural sport, The fairs and the patrons of Erin, I often used to resort, Where the true sons of Bacchus, Were chiefly my company Until I was deprived of My Drahareen O ma Chree
From the Cove of Cork City, My brother he first sailed away, On board of a steamer, To cross o’er to Spain by sea Where cannons do rattle, And bullets like lightning fly, Perhaps in the battle My Drahareen O did die.
When we both lived together, We did each other adore. This lovely green Isle We rambled it o’er and o’er; We worked at our trade And our earnings we spent in glee Until I was deprived of My Drahareen O ma Chree.
The womb turned to earth That gave birth to my brother and me, And likewise my good father Is gone to eternity: Like the babes in the forest, Poor forlorn orphans are we, Which makes me lament for My Drahareen O ma Chree.
If providence should aid me And send to me Spain where he be My life and existence I’d venture To set him at liberty; like a true loyal brother I would fight for him manfully and die in the arms of My Drahareen O ma Chree.
The name of a nymph That Jupiter did admire the head and tail of a fowl You must next inquire; the name of a beast Exchanged in a letter of three Will give you the name of - My Drahareen O ma Chree.