You may have all these songs, but in case you dont I posted them for you all. Slainte.

Amhrán na bhFiann
(THE IRISH NATIONAL ANTHEM)
(chorus)

Sinne Fianna Fáil
Atá faoi gheall ag Éirinn
Buíon dár slua thar toinn do tháinig chugainn
Faoi mhóid bheíth saor
Sean-tír ár sinsear feasta
Ní fhágfar faoin tíorán ná faoin tráil
Anocht a théann sa bhearna bhaol
Le gean ar Gael chun báis nó saol
Le gunna scréach, faoi lamhach na bpiléar
Seo libh, canaigh amhrán na bhFiann

BOOLAVOGUE

At Boolavogue as the sun was setting,
O`er the bright may meadows of Shelmalier,
A rebel hand set the heather blazing,
and brought the neighbours from far and near;

Then Father Murphy from old Kilcormack
Spurred up the rock with a warning cry:
"Arm! Arm!" he cried, "For I`ve come to lead you,
for Ireland`s freedom we`ll fight or die!"

He lead us on against the coming soldiers,
And the cowardly Yeomen we put to flight,
`Twas at the Harrow the boys of Wexford
Showed Bookey`s regiment how men could fight;

Look out for hirelings, King George of England,
Search every kingdom where breathes a slave,
For Father Murphy of County Wexford,
Sweeps o`er the land like a mighty wave.

We took Camolin and Enniscorthy,
And Wexford storming drove out our foes,
`Twas at Slieve Coilte our pikes were reeking
With the crimson blood of the beaten Yeos.

At Tubberneering and Ballyellis,
Full many a Hessian lay in his gore,
Ah! Father Murphy had aid come over,
The Green Flag floated from shore to shore!

At Vinegar Hill, O`er the pleasant Slaney,
Our heroes vainly stood back to back,
the Yeos at Tullow took Father Murphy,
and burnt his body upon a rack.

God grant you glory, brave Father Murphy,
open Heaven to all your men,
the cause that called you may call tomorrow,
in another fight for the Green again.

BOLD FENIAN MEN (DOWN BY THE GLENSIDE)
                           
'Twas down by the glenside, I met an old woman
She was picking young nettles and she scarce saw me coming
I listened a while to the song she was humming
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men

'Tis fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming
On strong manly forms and their eyes with hope gleaming
I see them again, sure, in all my daydreaming
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men.
When I was a young girl, their marching and drilling
Awoke in the glenside sounds awesome and thrilling
They loved poor old Ireland and to die they were willing
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men.

Some died on the glenside, some died near a stranger
And wise men have told us that their cause was a failure
They fought for old Ireland and they never feared danger
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men

I passed on my way, God be praised that I met her
Be life long or short, sure I'll never forget her
We may have brave men, but we'll never have better
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men

THE CROPPY BOY

"Good men and true, in this house do dwell,
to a stranger bouchal(boy) I pray you tell,
Is the priest at home? Or may he be seen?
I would speak a word with Father Green."

"The Priests at home, boy, and may be seen;
`Tis easy speaking with Father Green;
But you must wait `till I go and see
If the Holy Father alone may be."

The youth has entered an empty hall-
What a lonely sound has his light foot-fall!
And the gloomy chamber`s chill and bare,
With a vested priest in a lonely chair
.
The youth has knelt to tell his sins,
"Nomine Dei", the youth begins
At "Mea Culpa" he beats his breast,
and in broken murmers he speaks the rest.

"At the siege of Ross did my father fall,
And at Gorey my loving brothers all;
I alone am left of my name and race,
I will go to wexford and take my place.
                              
I cursed three times since last Easter day-
At Mass time once I went to play;
I passed the churchyard one day in haste
And forgot to pray for my mother`s rest."

"I hear no hate against living things
But I love my country above my king,
Now, Father! bless me and let me go
To die for God ordained it so."

The priest said naught, but a rustling noise,
Made the youth look up in wild surprise:
The robes were off, and in scarlet there
Say a Yeoman captain with firey glare.

With fiery glary and fury hoarse,
Instead of a blessing he breathed a curse-
"`Twas a good thought, boy, to come here and shrive,
For one short hour is your time to live"

"Upon yon river, three tenders float,
The priest`s in one - if he isn`t shot-
We hold this house for our Lord and King
And, Amen, say I may all traitors swing!"

At Geneva Barracks that young man died,
and at Passage there have his body laid.
Good people who live in peace and joy,
Breath a prayer, shed a tear, for the Croppy Boy.
FOLLOW ME UP TO CARLOW

Lift MacCahir Og your face brooding o'er the old disgrace
That black FitzWilliam stormed your place, drove you to the Fern
Grey said victory was sure soon the firebrand he'd secure;
Until he met at Glenmalure with Feach MacHugh O'Byrne.

(Chorus)
Curse and swear Lord Kildare
Feach will do what Feach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low
Up with halbert out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Feach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.

See the swords of Glen Imayle, flashing o'er the English Pale
See all the children of the Gael, beneath O'Byrne's banners
Rooster of the fighting stock, would you let a Saxon cock
Crow out upon an Irish rock, fly up and teach him manners.

From Tassagart to Clonmore, there flows a stream of Saxon gore
Och, great is Rory Oge O'More, sending the loons to Hades.
White is sick and Lane is fled, now for black FitzWilliam's head
We'll send it over, dripping red, to Queen Liza and the ladies.



KELLY, THE BOY FROM KILLANE

What's the news? What's the news? O my bold Shelmalier,
With your long-barrelled gun, of the sea?
Say, what wind from the sun blows his messenger here
With a hymn of the dawn for the free?
"Goodly news, goodly news, do I bring, youth of Forth,
Goodly news do I bring, Bargy man!
For the boys march at dawn from the south to the north
Led by Kelly, the boy from Killanne!"

Tell me who is the giant with the gold curling hair,
He who rides at the head of the band?
Seven feet is his height, with some inches to spare
And he looks like a king in command!
"Oh, me boys, that's the pride of the bold Shelmaliers,
"Mongst our greatest of heroes, a man!
Fling your beavers aloft and give three rousing cheers,
for John Kelly, the boy from Killanne!"
                           
Enniscorthy's in flames, and old Wexford is won,
And the Barrow tomorrow we cross.
On a hill o'er the town we have planted a gun
That will batter the gateways to Ross!
All the Forth men and Bargy men march o'er the heath
With brave Harvey to lead on the van;
But the foremost of all in that grim gap of death
Will be Kelly, the boy from Killanne!

But the gold sun of freedom grew darkened at Ross
And it set by the Slaney's red waves;
And poor Wexford, stript naked, hung high on a cross
With her heart pierced by traitors and slaves!
Glory O! Glory O! to her brave sons who died
For the cause of long-down-trodden man!
Glory O! to mount Leinster's own darling and pride:
Dauntless Kelly, the boy from Killanne!

KEVIN BARRY

In Mountjoy Jail one Monday morning
High upon the gallows tree
Kevin Barry gave his young life
For the cause of liberty
But a lad of eighteen summers
Yet no true man can deny
As he walked to death that morning
He proudly held his head on high

Just before he faced the hangman
In his dreary prison cell
The British soldiers tortured Barry
Just because he would not tell
The names of all his brave companions
And other things they wished to know
Turn informer or we'll kill you
Kevin Barry answered, No

Another martyr for old Erin
Another murder for the crown
The British laws may crush the Irish
But cannot keep their spirits down



THE MINSTREL BOY

The Minstrel Boy to the war is gone
In the ranks of death you will find him
His father's sword he hath girded on
And his wild harp slung behind him
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard
"Tho' all the world betrays thee
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"

The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain
Could not bring that proud soul under
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again
For he tore its chords asunder
And said "No chains shall sully thee
Thou soul of love and brav'ry!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free,
They shall never sound in slavery!"

A NATION ONCE AGAIN

When boyhood's fire was in my blood
I read of ancient freemen
For Greece and Rome who bravely stood
Three hundred men and three men
And then I prayed I yet might see
Our fetters rent in twain
And Ireland long a province be
A Nation Once Again

(Chorus)
A nation once again
A nation once again
And Ireland long a province be
A Nation Once Again

It whispered too that freedom's ark
That service high and holy
Would be profaned by feelings dark
And passions vain and lowly
For freedom comes from God's right hand
And needs a Godly train
And righteous men must make out land
A Nation Once Again

[Chorus repeat]

So as I grew from boy to man
I bent me to that bidding
My spirit of each selfish plan
And cruel passion ridding
For thus I hoped some day to aid
Oh, can such hope be vain
When my dear country should be made
A Nation Once Again
[Chorus repeat]

O DONNELL ABU

Proudly the note of the trumpet is sounding
Loudly the warcries arise on the gale
Fleetly the steed by Lough Swilly is bounding
To join the thick squadrons on Saimiers green vale!
On every mountaineer! Stranger to flight or fear!
Rush to the standard of dauntless Red Hugh!
Bonnaught and Gallowglass, throng from each mountain pass!
Onward for Erin! O'Donnell abu!

Princely O'Neill to our aid is advancing
With many a chieftain and warrior clan!
A thousand proud steeds in his vanguard are prancing
Neath the Borderers brave from the banks of the Bann!
Many a heart shall quail under its coat of mail,
Deeply the merciless foeman shall rue
When on his ear shall ring, borne on the breezes wing
TyrConnell's dread war cry O'Donnell abu!

Wildly o'er Desmond the warwolf is howling
Fearless the eagle sweeps over the plain
The fox in the streets of the city is prowling
And all who would conquer them are banished, or slain!
On with O'Donnell then! Fight the good fight again!
Sons of TyrConnell are valiant and true!
Make the proud Saxon feel Erin's avenging steel!
Strike! For your Country! O'Donnell abu!

ON THE ONE ROAD

(Chorus)
We're on the one road
Sharing the one load
We're on the road to God knows where
We're on the one road
Maybe the wrong road
But we're together now who cares
North men, South men, comrades all
Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Donegal
We're on the one road swinging along
Singing a soldier's song

ORÓ SÉ DO BHEATHA ABHAILE

(Chorus)
Oró, sé do bheatha abhaile,
Oró, sé do bheatha abhaile,
Oró, sé do bheatha abhaile
Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh.

'Sé do bheatha, a bhean ba léanmhar,
do ba é ár gcreach tú bheith i ngéibheann,
do dhúiche bhreá i seilbh méirleach,
is tú díolta leis na Gallaibh.

[Chorus]

Tá Gráinne Mhaol ag teacht thar sáile,
óglaigh armtha léi mar gharda,
Gaeil iad féin is ní Gaill ná Spáinnigh,
is cuirfidh siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh.

[Chorus]

A bhuí le Rí na bhFeart go bhfeiceann,
mura mbim beo ina dhiaidh ach seachtain,
Gráinne Mhaol agus míle gaiscíoch,
ag fógairt féin ar Ghallaibh.
[Chorus]

THE RISING OF THE MOON

"O then, tell me Sean O'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so"
"Hush, me bouchall, hush and listen," and his cheeks were all aglow
I bear orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together at the risin' of the moon

(Chorus)
By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together at the rising of the moon

"O then, tell me Sean O'Farrell, where the gath'rin' is to be"
In the old spot by the river, right well known to you and me
One more word for signal token, whistle up the marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder, by the rising of the moon"

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through that night
Many a manly heart was throbbing for the blessed warning light
Murmurs passed along the valleys, like the banshee's lonely croon
And a thousand blades were flashing at the rising of the moon

There beside the singing river, that dark mass of men were seen
Far above the shining weapons hung their own beloved green
Death to every foe and traitor, forward, strike the marching tune
And hurrah, my boys, for freedom, tis the rising of the moon

Well, they fought for poor old Ireland, and full bitter was their fate
Oh what glorious pride and sorrow fills the name of ninety eight
Yes, thank God, e'en still are beating hearts in manhood's burning noon
Who would follow in their footsteps at the rising of the moon

RODDY MCCORLEY                         

O see the fleet-foot host of men, who march with faces drawn,
From farmstead and from fishers' cot, along the banks of Ban;
They come with vengeance in their eyes. Too late! Too late are they,
For young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

Up the narrow street he stepped, so smiling, proud and young.
About the hemp-rope on his neck, the golden ringlets clung;
There's ne'er a tear in his blue eyes, fearless and brave are they,
As young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

When last this narrow street he trod, his shining pike in hand
Behind him marched, in grim array, a earnest stalwart band.
To Antrim town! To Antrim town, he led them to the fray,
But young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

There's never a one of all your dead more bravely died in fray
Than he who marches to his fate in Toomebridge town today;
True to the last! True to the last, he treads the upwards way,
And young Roddy McCorley goes to die on the bridge of Toome today.

RÓISIN DUBH

A Róisín, ná bíodh brón ort ná chás anois
tá do phárdún ó'n Róimh agus ó'n bPápa agat
tá na bráithre ag teacht thar sáile agus ag tríall thar muir
'S ni ceilfear fíon Spáinneach ar mo Róisín Dubh

Tá grá agam i mo lár dhuit le blíain anois
grá cráite, grá cásmhar, grá ciapaithe
grá a d'fhág mé gan sláinte, gan rían, gan ruith
is go bráth, bráth, gan aon fháil a leagadh ar mo Róisín Dubh

Beidh an Éirne ina tuilte dearga 's an spéir 'na fuil
beidh an saol ina choghadh craorach is réadfar chnoic
beidh gach gleann sléibhe ar fuid Éireann
agus móinte ar crith, la eigin sula n-eagfaidh mo Róisín Dubh

SEAN SOUTH OF GARRYOWEN

(spoken)
(Sad are the homes 'round Garryowen
Since lost their giant pride.
And the banshee cry links every vale
Around the Shannon side
That city of the ancient walls
The broken treaty stone, undying fame
Surrounds your name - Sean South of Garryowen)

'Twas on a dreary New Year's Eve
As the shades of night came down
A lorry load of volunteers approached a border town
There were men from Dublin and from Cork
Fermanagh and Tyrone
But the leader was a Limerick man -
Sean South from Garryowen

And as they moved along the street
Up to the barracks door
They scorned the danger they might meet
Their fate that lay in store
They were fighting for old Ireland's cause
To claim their very own
And the foremost of that gallant band
Was South of Garryowen


But the sergeant spoiled their daring plan
He spied them through the door
The Sten guns and the rifles
A hail of death did pour
And when that awful night was passed
Two men lay cold as stone
And one from Garryowen

No more he will hear the seagull's cry
O'er the murmuring Shannon tide
For he fell beneath a northern sky
Brave Hanlon by his side
They have gone to join that gallant band
Of Plunkett, Pearse, and Tone
A martyr for old Ireland
Sean South from Garryowen

THE WEST'S ASLEEP

When all beside a vigil keep,
The West's asleep, the West's asleep-
Alas! and well may Erin weep,
When Connaught lies in slumber deep.
There lake and plain smile fair and free,
'Mid rocks-their guardian chivalry-
Sing oh! let man learn liberty
From crashing wind and lashing sea.

That chainless wave and lovely, land
Freedom and Nationhood demand-
Be sure, the great God never plann'd,
For slumbering slaves, a home so grand.
And, long, a brave and haughty race
Honoured and sentinelled the place-
Sing oh! not even their sons' disgrace
Can quite destroy their glory's trace.

For often, in O'Connor's van,
To triumph dash'd each Connaught clan-
And fleet as deer the Normans ran
Through Coirrsliabh Pass and Ard Rathain.*
And later times saw deeds as brave;
And glory guards Clanricarde's grave-
Sing oh! they died their land to save,
At Aughrim's slopes and Shannon's wave.

And if, when all a vigil keep,
The West's; asleep, the West's asleep-
Alas! and well may Erin weep,
That Connaught lies in slumber deep.
But-hark! -some voice like thunder spake:
" The West's awake, the West's awake'-
Sing oh! hurra! let England quake,
We'll watch till death for Erin's sake!"