Lyr Req: My Buachaill Roe

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: My Buachaill Roe
From: GUEST,Eileen
Date: 12 Oct 21 - 03:52 PM

I wonder, does anyone know the name of the air? It appears elsewhere - or at least something very similar in “eighteen years old”. I just wonder if it was a tune before it was a song. Thanks!

Subject: Lyr Add: MY BOUGHEL-ROE (from Bodleian)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 14 Mar 11 - 09:05 PM

The ones with "my" in the title are actually a different song. This transcription is mainly from Firth b.27(222):


MY BOUGHEL-ROE.

Come all ye tender lovers till I relate my grief.
My darling's gone and left me with small hopes of relief.
Straightway unto America my darling's forced to go.
I'm afraid some other fair one will enjoy my Boughel-roe.

On the third of May—the very day—my darling did set sail.
May all goodness him attend, when he is on the main.
May the guardian angels be his guide wherever he may go,
My blessings I'll bestow on him, my darling Boughel-roe.

The Arden* was the vessel's name which my true love sailed in.
She was as swift a sailer as ever crossed the main.
She bears a good character wherever she does go,
And on her stern she wears the cross, decoyed my Boughel-roe.

When I go to church on Sundays, with tears my eyes grow blind
To think of my old sweetheart, his countenance so mild.
He was the head of our holy choir, not very long ago,
And all the Roman clergy lament our Boughel-roe.

A suit of costly mourning for my love I will put on,
And if he ne'er return again, a maid I'll stay at home,
But if he does return with riches in great store,
In my extended arms I will enfold my Boughel-roe.

When my love roves, he trips the groves and makes the valleys ring.
The blackbird and the nightingale melodiously do sing.
He is a clever tall young man, wherever he does go.
He's the pearl of the nation and my darling Boughel-roe.


* Harding B 17(204a) has "Arcadian."

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: My Buachaill Roe
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 12 Mar 11 - 06:15 AM

The Bodleian broadside collection has these variants:

AN ADMIRED SONG CALLED BOCHAL ROW! 2806 c.15(81)

AN ADMIRED SONG CALLED BOCHAL ROW! Harding B 19(25)

THE BOCHAL ROW 2806 b.9(281)

THE BOUGHAL ROE 2806 c.8(299)

MY BOUGHEL ROE Firth b.27(222)

MY BOUGHEL-RO Harding B 17(204a)

MY BOUGHLE-ROE 2806 c.14(79)

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: My Buachaill Roe
From: GUEST,Donal
Date: 02 Mar 11 - 04:40 AM

I was trawling through the Bodelian ballads looking for something else when I came across this version of 'Buachaill Roe', I think it's different enough to post.

Come all you pretty fair maids,
give ear now and join with me,
All in a conversation,
concerning my love's destiny,
A lad whom I loved dearly,
from my arms he was forced to go,
I never can forget him,
he is my charming young Bochal Row.

He was a youth undaunted,
his age was twenty-three,
Search this Irish nation,
my love's equal you could not see,
With his two black eyes and rosy cheeks
his skin as white as snow,
I own I love him dearly,
he is my charming young Bochal Row.

If I had the skill of Homer,
or the minister to be my friend,
I'd sit and write a letter,
to old England I would it send,
In hopes the Queen would pardon him,
to heal all my grief and woe,
And restore him to my arms,
he is my charming young Bochal Row.

He was a youth undaunted,
of courage and of noble blood,
Against the foes of Erin,
in battle he has often stood.
He never yet retreated,
though his wounds were deep and sore,
He is a credit to old Erin,
he is my charming young Bochal Row.

Lough Erne is overclouded,
and surrounded with mist and rain,
And so is Enniskillen,
where my darling he did once remain,
The gentle thrush forsook the groves,
the blackbirds will sing no more,
With a voice of consolation,
bewailing my Bochal Row.

Could I set forth great praises,
with honour to her Majesty,
She granted me my darling,
and from bondage set him free,
So now I'll build a castle,
on the banks of Lough Erne shore,
And plant the walks with laurel
for my charming young Bochal Row.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Words required for 'My Buachail Roe'
From: GUEST,Dónal
Date: 23 Apr 08 - 05:43 AM

You're welcome Frank, and yes, I've given the line as printed, just the folk process at work perhaps.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Words required for 'My Buachail Roe'
From: Frank_Finn
Date: 23 Apr 08 - 05:03 AM

Thanks Donal. Thats great. Just one query. I heard Paddy's daughter singing it once (I forget which one) and she seemed to sing
"I'll deck my true love's castle on the banks of Lough Erne shore....)
Is the above verbatim from the book 'Where Songs do Thunder'?

Subject: Lyr Add: MY BUCHAILL ROE
From: GUEST,Dónal
Date: 22 Apr 08 - 07:42 PM

From Paddy Tunney's 'Where Songs do Thunder' Belfast 1991.


THE BUACHAILL ROE

1. Come all you loyal heroes and listen unto me,
And I'll sing you a verse or two of my love's destiny;
For the lad I loved so dearly from my arms is forced to go;
Still I own I loved him dearly. He's my charming Buachaill Roe.

CHORUS: Oh, the gentle thrush forsakes the bush and the blackbird hovers low
With a cry of desolation that bewails my Buachaill Roe.
Oh, the gentle thrush forsakes the bush and the blackbird hovers low;
Still I own I loved him dearly. He's my charming Buachaill Roe.

2. He was a youth undaunted. His age was twenty-three;
And for to search this nation round, his equal ne'er you'd see.
With two black eyes and rosy cheeks, his skin as white as snow,
But I own I loved him dearly. He's my charming Buachaill Roe.

3. He was a youth undaunted, of courage and noble blood,
And for the cause of Ireland on the battlefield he stood.
He never once retreated, though his wounds were deep and sore;
Still I own I loved him dearly. He's my charming Buachaill Roe.

4. The Erne is now closed by a heavy mist of rain,
And so is Enniskillen, where my true love does remain.
I'll build my true love's castle on the banks of Lough Erne shore,
And I'll plant the woods with laurel for my charming Buachaill Roe.

Subject: Lyr Req: Words required for 'My Buachail Roe'
From: Frank_Finn
Date: 22 Apr 08 - 06:06 PM

I am looking for the words of this song
The chorus starts like this
"For the gentle thrush forsakes the bush
and the blackbird hovers low ,,,,,,,"