Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)

Subject: Lyric Req.: Old Bog Road
From: Laila
Date: 28 Jun 99 - 01:59 PM

I'm looking for the lyric of classic Old Bog Road. Thanks.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE OLD BOG ROAD (Teresa Brayton)
From: Steve I
Date: 28 Jun 99 - 04:22 PM

I think this will do it. But will someone please tell me how to get the line feeds in?

THE OLD BOG ROAD

   D                                              A
  My feet are here on Broadway this blessed harvest morn,
      A7                 A6?             A                D
  But O, the ache that's in them for the spot where I was born.
                                                     A
  My weary hands are blistered from work in cold and heat,
      A7            A6?                A               D
  And O, to swing a scythe today thro' fields of Irish wheat.
                                      G             A
  Had I the chance to wander back, or own a King's abode,
       D                G                    D   A   D
  'Tis soon I'd see the hawthorn tree by the Old Bog Road.

When I was young and restless my mind was ill at ease
Thro' dreaming of America and gold beyond the seas.
O, sorrow take their money, 'tis hard to get that same,
And what's the world to any man, where no-one speaks his name?
I've had my day, and here I am with building bricks for load,
A long three thousand miles away from the Old Bog Road.

My mother died last springtide, when Ireland's fields were green:
The neighbours said her waking was the finest ever seen.
There were snowdrops and primroses piled up beside her bed,
And Ferns Church was crowded when the funeral Mass was said,
But there was I on Broadway, with building bricks for load,
When they carried out her coffin from the Old Bog Road.

There was a decent girl at home who used to walk with me,
Her eyes were soft and sorrowful like sunbeams on the sea.
Her name was Mary Dwyer, but that was long ago,
And the ways of God are wiser than the things a man may know.
She died the year I left her, with building bricks for load -
I'd best forget the times we met on the Old Bog Road.

Ah! life's a weary puzzle past finding out by man.
I take the day for what it's worth and do the best I can.
Since no-one cares a rush for me, what needs to make a moan?
I go my way, and draw my pay, and smoke my pipe alone.
Each human heart must know its grief, though little be its load,
So God be with you, Ireland and the Old Bog Road.

Subject: RE: Lyric Req.: Old Bog Road
From: Joe Offer
Date: 16 Aug 04 - 03:53 AM

Teresa Brayton, poet, literary nationalist, author of "The Old Bog Road" was born in Kilbrook, Kilcock in 1868. She emigrated to America in 1895 and became well known in Irish-American circles. She published extensively in many American newspapers and magazines and was closely associated with the 1916 Rising. In 1913 she published her first book of poetry called "Songs of the Dawn, The Flame of Ireland" appeared in 1926 and "Christmas Verses" in 1934. Her main themes were the exile's nostalgic loss of homeland, nationalism and religion. She returned permanently to Ireland in 1932 and died in her home Kilbrook in 1943. Presidnet de Valera unveiled a memorial cross over her grave in 1959.


Soruce: http://eprints.may.ie/archive/00000083/

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Old Bog Road
From: GUEST,nickr90
Date: 27 Jun 05 - 02:16 PM

Can anyone tell me if Ferns Church referes to Ferns County Wexford?

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: GUEST,seacker
Date: 29 May 10 - 06:26 PM

I think this is what your desire for "The Old Bog Road"

THE OLD BOG ROAD

My feet are here on Broadway this blessed harvest morn,
But O, the ache that's in them for the spot where I was born.
My weary hands are blistered from work in cold and heat,
And O, to swing a scythe today thru fields of Irish wheat.
Had I the chance to wander back, or own a King's abode,
'Tis soon I'd see the hawthorn tree by the Old Bog Road.

When I was young and restless my mind was ill at ease
Dreaming of America and gold beyond the seas.
O, sorrow take their money, 'tis hard to get that same,
And what's the world to any man, where no-one speaks his name?
I've had my day, and here I am with building bricks for load,
A long three thousand miles away from the Old Bog Road.

My mother died last springtide, when Ireland's fields were green:
The neighbours said her waking was the finest ever seen.
There were snowdrops and primroses piled up beside her bed,
And Ferns Church was crowded when the funeral Mass was said,
But there was I on Broadway, with building bricks for load,
When they carried out her coffin from the Old Bog Road.

There was a decent girl at home who used to walk with me,
Her eyes were soft and sorrowful like sunbeams on the sea.
Her name was Mary Dwyer, but that was long ago,
And the ways of God are wiser than the things a man may know.
She died the year I left her, with building bricks for load -
I'd best forget the times we met on the Old Bog Road.

Ah! life's a weary puzzle past finding out by man.
I take the day for what it's worth and do the best I can.
Since no-one cares a rush for me, what needs to make a moan?
I go my way, and draw my pay, and smoke my pipe alone.
Each human heart must know its grief, though little be its load,
So God be with you, Ireland and the Old Bog Road.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: Brakn
Date: 29 May 10 - 07:31 PM

well done seacker..didn't see the one above....completely missed it

muppet

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: GUEST,^&*
Date: 30 May 10 - 06:50 PM

GUESTnickr90

Teresa Brayton was from the Irish midlands - far from Wexford - but I know of no other Ferns in Ireland.

Subject: Lyr Add: THE OLD BOG ROAD (Teresa Brayton)
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 02 Jun 10 - 10:06 AM

This is the original text. I have boldfaced the words that are different from the above text. There are also numerous small differences in spelling (especially dialect), capitalization, and punctuation that I have corrected but not emphasized.

From Songs of the Dawn and Irish Ditties by Teresa Brayton (New York: P. J. Kenedy & Son, 1913), page 77:


THE OLD BOG ROAD.

My feet are here on Broadway this blessed harvest morn
But O, the ache that's in thim for the sod where I was born;
My weary hands are blisthered from toil in cold and heat
And 'tis O, to swing a scythe to-day through fields of Irish wheat.
Had I my choice to journey back or own a king's abode
'Tis soon I'd see the hawthorn tree by the old bog road.

When I was young and innocent my mind was ill at ease
Through dhraimin' of America and goold beyant the seas,
Och, sorra take their money but 'tis hard to get that same—
And what's the world to a man whin no one spakes his name!
I've had my day and here I am with buildin' bricks for load
A long three thousand miles away from the old bog road.

My mother died last springtide whin Ireland's fields were green,
The neighbors said her wakin' was the finest ever seen,
There were snowdrops and primroses piled up around her bed
And Ferns Church was crowded whin her funeral Mass was said.
And here was I on Broadway with buildin' bricks for load
Whin they carried out her coffin from the old bog road.

There was a dacint girl at home who used to walk with me,
Her eyes were soft and sorrowful like moonbames on the sea,
Her name was Mary Dwyer,—but that is long ago
And the ways of God are wiser than the things a man may know.
She died the year I left her, but with buildin' bricks for load
I'd best forget the times we met on the old bog road.

Och, life's a weary puzzle, past findin' out by man,
I take the day for what it's worth and do the best I can,
Since no one cares a rush for me what need to make a moan,
I go my way and dhraw my pay, and smoke my pipe alone.
Each human heart must know its grief though bitther be the load,
So God be with old Ireland and the old bog road.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: GUEST,seanm.
Date: 01 Apr 11 - 08:51 PM

There is a townland called Ferrans Lock near Kilcock on the Meath/Kildare border and I would imagine that is what Teresa
Referred to in the verse.

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: MartinRyan
Date: 02 Apr 11 - 02:51 AM

Thanks, GUESTSeanm - I never knew that! Looks like you're right:
Click here

Regards

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: MartinRyan
Date: 02 Apr 11 - 03:02 AM

I see "Ferrans" in some online sets of lyrics, though many have "Ferns". Haven't seen original sheet music yet.

Regards

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: MartinRyan
Date: 02 Apr 11 - 03:12 AM

Mind you, Jim Dixon's link to what may have been the original publication of the poem suggests she wrote Ferns even if she was thinking Ferrans!

Regards

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: GUEST,Desi C
Date: 02 Apr 11 - 08:25 AM

Just wondering, Am I the only Mudctter to have actually been born down an old bog road? Mine was/is Named Timberau (timber row) just outside Castlecomer county Kilkenny, anyone from there? mail me on [e-mail]

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: MartinRyan
Date: 02 Apr 11 - 09:42 AM

There may also be a little poetic license in the reference to "when her funeral Mass was said" - the only church in Ferrans I can find reference to is Church of Ireland (Anglican) and ruined to boot!

Regards

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: MartinRyan
Date: 02 Apr 11 - 09:59 AM

I cam across an authoritative architectural heritage reference which shows that both spellings (Ferns and Ferrans) are used in the area (County Meath).

I just can't get it to paste correctly!
Regards

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: GUEST,Learaí na Láibe
Date: 24 Jan 12 - 08:42 AM

Martin's quote: "I cam across an authoritative architectural heritage reference which shows that both spellings (Ferns and Ferrans) are used in the area (County Meath)."

Yes, local townlands often have different spellings even up to this day, causing confusion for land registery, satnavs and ancestor research.

Here are some of the recorded spellings of Ferrans in the Placenames Database of Ireland.
http://www.logainm.ie/38986.aspx

Click 'data' and then 'text records'

Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton)
From: GUEST
Date: 19 Mar 23 - 06:19 PM

Ferrans Lock is an actual lock on the Royal Canal and is not a townland. A small matter.