Subject: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 11:06 AM Michelle - who came in to ask about the Irish Rebel Spy has an old book entitled "IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS" - that has been in her family for generations; some of which text she is sharing with us. I will be moving text from the other thread and posting others from a gif she has sent.
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Subject: Lyr Add: THE CASTLEBAR BOY From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 11:09 AM THE CASTLEBAR BOY (IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS) I am a boy from ould Ireland, where good nature and morn shines on every face; And the pride of my father, And the girl's own joy, And the darlings they call me the Castlebar boy Chorus: For my name it is Pat, I'm proud of that, My country I will never deny; I will fight for the sod Where my forefathers trod, Sing hurrah for the Castlebar boy. I was born one evening, in the middle of June, They took me into town And they christened me soon; What name shall we call him? says Father Molloy, Monnadowl, call him Paddy, The Castlebar boy. chorus When I landed in England It was a beautiful morning, They gave me a job at reaping the corn; At reaping and mowing to beat me they tried, But the Omahauns, They could not touch the Castlebar boy Chorus You Englishmen,poor Paddy don't scorn, For Paddy was not always a big Omahaun; For his heart is in the right place, For a friend he would die; I think I have pleased you, the best I did try. Grant your applause to the Castlebar boy Chorus |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 11:14 AM duh! I did proof this - but the book title is actually "SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND" - which just goes to show you you should always have a second person prufred |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 08 Aug 01 - 11:30 AM Does this book give the melodies? There's a 6/8 jig called Castlebar Boy, for example. |
Subject: Lyr Add: THE 'HOLLY AND THE IVY' GIRL From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 11:42 AM THE "HOLLY AND THE IVY" GIRL (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p37) "Come, buy my nice, fresh Ivy, and my Holly sprigs so green; I have the finest branches that ever yet were seen. Come, buy fro me, good Christians, and let me home, I pray, And I'll wish you 'Merry Christmas Times, and a happy New Year's Day" "Ah! Won't you take my ivy? - the loveliest ever seen! Ah! Won't you have my Holly boughs? - all you who love the Green! Do! - take a little bunch of each, and on my knees I'll pray, That God may bless your Christmas and be with you New Year's Day." "This wind is black and bitrter, and the hail-stones do not spare My shivering form, my bleeding feet, and stiff, entangled hair; Then, when the skies are pitiless, be merciful, I say - So heaven will light your Christmas and the coming New Year's Day." 'Twas thus a dying maiden sung, while the cold hail rattled down, And fierce winds whistled mournfully o'er Dublin's dreary town:-- One stiff hand clutched her Ivy sprigs and Holly boughs so fair; With the other she kept brushing the haildrops from her hair So grim and statue-like she seemed, 'twas evident the Death Was lurking in her footseps - while her hot impded breath Too plainly told her early doom - though the burden of her lay Was still of life and Christmas joys, and a Happy New Year's Day. 'Twas in that broad, bleak Thomas Street, I heard the wanderer sing, I stood a moment in the mire, beyond the ragged ring- My heart felt cold and lonely, and my thoughts were far away, Where I was many a Chritmas-tide and Happy New Year's Day. I dreamed of wonderings in the woods among the Holly Green; I dreamed of my onw native cot and porch with Ivey Screen: I dreamed of lights forever dimm'd - of Hopes that can't return - And dropped a tear on Christmas fires that never more can burn. The ghost-like singer still sung on, but no one came to buy; The hurrying crowd passed to and fro, but did not heed her cry; She uttered on low, piercing moan-then cast her boughs away- And smiling, cried-"I'll rest with God before the New Year's Day!" On New Year's Day I said my prayers above a new-made grave, Dug recently in sacred soi, by Liffey's murmuring wave; The Minstrel maid from Earth to Heaven has winged her happy way, And now enjoys, with sister saints, and endless New Year's Day. Malcolm - no - at least not on the page she has sent me, and I don't know if there is tune direction elsewhere in the book. According to her post, this book was brought by her great-grandfather when he immigrated from Ireland. Michelle has said she believes it is from the 1800's - do not know if she has a year for her ggf's immigration or not. but (for example) *my* grandfather immigrated in 1913. The scan she sent me does show that this book is very fragile... |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: IanC Date: 08 Aug 01 - 11:50 AM MMario There are a few books called "Songs and Ballads of Ireland". Could you provide some bibliographical detail? Editor, date ?
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Subject: Lyr Add: JENNY, I'M NOT JESTING From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 11:56 AM JENNY, I'M NOT JESTING (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND) Ah, Jenny, I'm not jesting Believe what I'm protesting, And Yield what I'm requesting These seven years through. "Ah, Lawrence, I may grieve you, Yet if I can't relieve you, Sure, why should I deceive you With words untrue! But, since you must be courtin'. There's Rosy and her fortune; 'Tis rumoured your (sic)consortin' With her of late. Or there's your cousin Kitty, So charming and so witty, She'd wed you out of pity, Kind Kate." "Fie! Jenny, since I knew you, Of all the lads that woo you, None's been so faithful to you, If truth were told. Even when yourself was dartin' Fond looks at fickle Martin, Till off the thief went startin' For Sheela's gold." "And if you've known me longest, Why should your love be stongest, And his that's now the youngest, For that be worst?" "Fie, Jenny, quickest kindled Is always soonest dwindled: And the the swiftest spindled Snaps first." "If that's your wisdom, Larry, The longer I can tarry, The luckier I shall marry, At long, long last." "I've known of girls amusing Their minds, the men refusing, Till none wre left for choosing At long, long last." "Well, since it seem that marriage Is still the safest carriage And all the world disparage The spinster lone; Since you might still forsake me, I think I'll let you take me, Yes! Larry, you may make me Your own!" Ian - this is second hand information for me; I am transcribing from a scanned page - and evidently title page and index are missing (this book is OLD and FRAGILE). Probably pre-1900 if not older. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 08 Aug 01 - 12:13 PM The Holly and Ivy Girl was written by John Keegan (1809-1849), and set to O'Carolan's Lament. Apparantly it was first published in The Irishman, number 1, January 1849. |
Subject: Lyr Add: THE MONKS OF THE SCREW From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 12:22 PM THE MONKS OF THE SCREW (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p37) When St. Patrick our order created And called us the Monks of the Screw, Good rules he revealed to our abbot, To guide us in what we should do, But first he replenished his fountain With liqour the best in the sky; And he swore by the word of his saintship That fountain should never run dry. My children, be chaste - till you're tempted; While sober, be wise and discreet; And humble your bodies with fasting- Whene'er you have nothing to eat. Then be not a glass in the convent, Except on a festival, found: And, this rule to enforce, I ordain it A festival all the year round I don't know if this gets continued on page 38 or not. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: IanC Date: 08 Aug 01 - 12:25 PM mmario 220 or 387 pages? |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 12:26 PM I'll ask |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 01:11 PM Michelle thinks it may originally have been about 220 pages - not sure as the intervening generations were "not kind" to the state of the book and many pages are missing - having been torn out to "share" lyrics.
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 08 Aug 01 - 01:18 PM George Petrie (The Petrie Collection of the Ancient Music of Ireland, 1855) comments:
As the melody of the charter song of that singular social union of wit and talent which existed in Dublin, from the year 1779 to the close of the year 1785, and was called "The Monks of the Order of St. Patrick," but commonly known as "The Monks of the Screw" few of the readers of this work will require to be informed that this well-known charter song was written for the society by its Prior, the late John Philpot Curran; but it has not been hitherto known that the music selected by the gifted poet, as a fit medium for his serio-comic verses, was a gay Irish melody, arrayed in a mock solemnity, and which, no doubt, he had learnt in his own loved county of Cork.
The melody, according to Andrew Kuntz's The Fiddler's Companion, is a variant of Ta Me I n-Eagmais Ach Iocfadh Me Fos (I'm in debt but I'll pay them yet). A set of The Monks of the Screw appears in O'Neill, but the one given by Petrie should be more accurate, as it came directly from Curran's son. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 02:38 PM Malcolm - you are a prize! Michelle has e-mailed me 4 more pages - some of which are nearly identical to previous postings - but other's I cannot find in forum or DT. (partial) The Battle of Fontenoy Patrick Riley My Noble Irish Girl Adieu, My Own Dear Erin (partial) Shaun's Head ...y's Pastoral Phapsody (damaged) Mantle so Green (seems to have more verses then DT) McFadden's Picnic (damaged) Molly Ballaghan The County of Mayo Any preferences as to what I type in next?
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Subject: Lyr Add: … Y'S PASTORAL RHAPSODY From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 04:04 PM … Y'S PASTORAL RHAPSODY (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p 38) … Molly, th'other day, sir, …akin' of the hay, sir, … her for to be my bride, …Molly she began to chide: …she, "You are too young, dear Pat." … I, "My jew'l, I'll mend o' that." "You are too poor," she says, beside; When to convince her, then, I tried, That wealth is an invintion The wise should never mintion, And flesh is grass, and flowers will fade, And it's better be wed than die an owld maid. The purty little sparrows Have neither plows nor harrows, Yet they live at aise, and are contint, Bekase, you see, they pay no rint; They have no care nor flustherin' About diggin' or induststherin'; No foolish pride their comfort hurts- For they eat the flax, and wear no shirts- For wealth is an invintion,etc. Sure, Nature clothes the hills, dear, Without any tailor's bills, dear; And the bees they sip their sweets, my sowl, Though they never had a sugar-bowl; The dew it feeds the rose of June, But 'tis not with a silver spoon; Then let us tatthern take from those, The birds and bees, and lovely rose- For wealth is an invintion, etc. |
Subject: Lyr Add: McFADDEN'S PICNIC From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 04:07 PM McFADDEN'S PICNIC (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p 39) Near the beautiful town of Killybeys, In the county of Donegal, The McFaddens, the Maloneys, With the children large and small, Gave over their daily labor, Sorra stroke of work would they do; But betook themselves to the fields and woods For to kick up a hubbubaloo. There was all the McFaddens, both young and old, And Terence O'Flaherty's niece; A hundred and fifty Maloneys Wid a peck of praties a piece: And Father O'Toole from Carrigaline, The Gilhooleys of Borrisokane, And Patsey Maloy, that broth of a boy, Wid the elegant Widow McShane. 'Neath the shade of a tree, by a clear running brook, On the turf a cloth they spread. The same the generally covered the limbs Of the young McFaddens in bed. Then they emptied their packs of the sweetest of cakes, And the choicest of bacon and meat; And, for two hours, though divil a bit did they do But drink whisky and gabble and eat. By the pipes of McGorrisk they danced and sung, Like divils, wid mad possessed; And Father O'Toolem in the widow's embrace, Was shaking his foot wid the best. Ould Scally, the tailor, released from his goose, Had the wife of MdFadden in tow; And tehy lathered the gravel in style that, bedad! You can't see in a travelin' show. The woods they presented a beautiful… All thickened with maidens so… And Mick Hogan a-courtin' … niece In a nate little shady ret…. Ould McFadden dead drunk … like a corpse, Wid a doxen Maloneys …. And the swate little b … poteen Wid the end of a….
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Noreen Date: 08 Aug 01 - 06:46 PM MMario, would Molly Brallaghan in that collection be related to MOLLY BRANNIGAN in the DT? |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 08 Aug 01 - 07:44 PM yes - it would, closely ( I have only searched on title so far - will be searching on phrases soon). Michelle also sent me corrections on the last verse of McFadden's picnic - the paper was folded |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Noreen Date: 08 Aug 01 - 08:57 PM You're doing a grand job, MMario- you (or Michelle) could do with a scanner linked to a text-recognition program, as I have here... saves tiring your fingers so much. Noreen |
Subject: Add: Corrections - McFadden's Picnic From: MMario Date: 09 Aug 01 - 09:06 AM the complete final verse for McFadden's Picnic - courtesy of Michelle's more accurate copy! The woods they presented a beautiful sight, All thickened with maidens so sweet; And Mick Hogan a-courtin' OFlaherty's niece In a nate little shady retreat. Ould McFadden dead drunk and laid out like a corpse, Wid a dozen Maloneys or more: And the swate little brats playing toy wid potheen Wid the end of an innocent straw
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: IanC Date: 09 Aug 01 - 09:56 AM MMario Thanks for the page numbers. It could be "The Songs of Ireland (including ... ballads)" c1890, London, Boosey and Co. (220pp). |
Subject: Lyr Add: ADIEU, MY OWN DEAR ERIN From: MMario Date: 09 Aug 01 - 10:11 AM ADIEU, MY OWN DEAR ERIN (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p 35) Adieu, my own dear Erin, Receive my fand, my last adieu; I go, but with me bearing A heart still fondly turn'd to you. The charms that nature gave thee With lavish hand, shall cease to smile, And the soul fo friendship leave thee, E'er I forget my own green isle. Ye fields where heroes bounded To meet the foes of liberty; Ye hills that oft resounded The joyful shouts of victory Obscured is all your glory, Forotten all your former fame, And the minstrel's mournful sotry, Now calls a tear at Erin's name But still the day may brighten When those tears shall cease to flow, And the shout of freedom lighten Spirits now so drooping low. Then should the glad breeze blowing Convey the echo o'er the sea, My heart with transport gowiing, Shall bless the land that made thee free. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Peg Date: 09 Aug 01 - 10:21 AM would love to have the lyrics and tune of "Mantle So Green"; heard it on the radio one day and was captivated.... any recommendations for a recording? peg
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Subject: Lyr Add: MY NOBLE IRISH GIRL From: MMario Date: 09 Aug 01 - 10:26 AM MY NOBLE IRISH GIRL (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p 35) I love thee-oj, that word is tame To tell how dear thou art; No seraph feels a holier flame Than that which fills my heart, How mild and innocent the brow, Where thy dark ringlets curl; Thy soul is pure as virgin dawn, My noble Irish girl. I love to gaze upon they smile, Thine eyes so bright and gay; For there's no stain of art or guile In aught you think or say. The happiest hour that e'er I knew, Though it my peace may peril, Is when thee to my heart I drew, My noble Irish girl. I need not in the herald's book My loved one's lineage trace- I read her lineage in her look, Her record in her face; I hear it in each touching tone That floats thro' rows of pearl; Thou art my queen--- my heart's thy throne My noble Irish girl. I feel the impress of thy worth And strive to be like thee: Thou art to me what Heaven's to earth, What sunshine's to the sea; And if from me some luster beam, 'Mid sin and passion's whirl, 'Tis thy light shines on my life's stream, My noble Irish girl. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 09 Aug 01 - 10:39 AM for the tune the DT version for various other lyrics - Mick Bracken posted one that is almost word for word as in Michelle's book - has a couple more verses then the one in the DT - here Mudguard posted another set here which appears to be gender reversed. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 09 Aug 01 - 10:46 AM the above post refers to "Mantle So Green" in answer to Peg's inquiry |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 09 Aug 01 - 10:31 PM We have two definite tunes for texts posted so far; as ever, midis will be available via the South Riding Folk Network site until they appear at the Mudcat Midi Pages:
The Holly and Ivy Girl (Carolan's Lament)
The first is made from notation for John Keegan's song in The Irish Song Book (A.P. Graves; second, revised edition, 1895), and the second from the tune provided by William H. Curran, and printed as #490 in Stanford-Petrie, The Complete Collection of Irish Music 1903. A few notes in the first two bars have been split into two in order to accommodate the lyric given. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 10 Aug 01 - 08:48 AM Thanks Malcolm! |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 10 Aug 01 - 10:04 AM six more pages from Michelle - ERIN, My country Mister Finagan Digging for Gould Doran's Ass (almost the same as DT but expands verse three into two verses) Morrissey and the Benicia boy Michael Dwyer (not the DT version - MUCH longer) The Boys of Kilkenny Kitty of Coleraine Barney Brallaghan The Celtic Cross The Orangeman's Wife Kerry Dance - see forum The Lads who live in Ireland The River Roe - (tune:tramps and hawkers) Pastheen Fion
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 10 Aug 01 - 10:31 AM Pastheen Fion is the subject of a current thread; see An Paistin Fionn: English words?
Barney Brallaghan was written in the [?] 1820s by T. Hudson to music by J. Blewitt; for some background, together with texts and an arrangement of 1830, see The South Riding Tune Book: Judy Callaghan |
Subject: Add: DORAN'S ASS From: MMario Date: 10 Aug 01 - 10:36 AM As I said above - this version of Doran's Ass is almost the same as in the DT - but verse three of the DT expands into the following two verses:
from SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p 43 |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 10 Aug 01 - 11:02 AM Kitty of Coleraine is the same as the DT version except male protagonist is first person not third. Tune is on Alan's Midi page. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MartinRyan Date: 12 Aug 01 - 03:49 PM The Irish Traditional Music Archive doesn't seem to have any book of that exact title. The contents contain at least one Percy French song (Slattery's Mounted Foot, BTW - is Digging for Gold actually "Mountains of Mourne"?) so we're talking late 19C at the earliest for publication date. Most of the song titles look fairly familiar. I must re read the list (can't see it at the momnet, for some reason) and pick 'em out. Regards |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MartinRyan Date: 12 Aug 01 - 03:50 PM The Irish Traditional Music Archive doesn't seem to have any book of that exact title. The contents list has at least one Percy French song (Slattery's Mounted Foot, BTW - is Digging for Gold actually "Mountains of Mourne"?) so we're talking late 19C at the earliest for publication date. Most of the song titles look fairly familiar. I must re read the list (can't see it at the momnet, for some reason) and pick 'em out. Regards |
Subject: ADD: Digging for Gould From: MMario Date: 14 Aug 01 - 03:13 PM DIGGING FOR GOULD (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p 43) Darby Kelly below in Kilkenny did live, A sketch of whose character I'm going to give: He was thought by the people a green polished rogue. He could wastle the whisky, as wastle the old brogue. All kinds of diseases with herbs he could cure, He'd interpret your dreams, to be certain and sure; By the boys of the village he often was fool'd, For, aslape or awake, he was dreaming of gould. He had a fine open house, but the winders were broke, The gables were down to let out the smoke; Some beautiful pigs through the wild world to range, Though they were thin, they were thick with the mange. He was so neglectful of domestic affairs. The rats ate the bottoms all out of his chairs; And the wife by the jusband was so overruled, When she axed him for coppers he was talking of gould. The house thus neglected, sure nothing went right; When a youth of the village came to him one night, A nice boy he was, his name was Dan Mac, And ready to fly with the duds on his back, All the clothes that he had wasn't enough To make him a bolster to stick on a crutch, And his juvenile days in a lime kiln were schooled, But he used to cod Darby about finding gould Says Dan: Ere last night I had a beautiful dream, But bad luck to the doubt! last night I'd the same; And tod-day, as I dozed, after slacking some lime, I dreamt it again for the third and last time, Och, muder! Says Darby, come tell us your dream, Same time his two eyes like buckets did gleam; Says Dan: I dreamt at the castle Killcool, I found a joar that was crammed full of gould. Poor Darby's big mouth opened like a dead Haicke, Saying: You'll be a hero, just like your namesake; You'll ride in your coach, you fortunate elf, While I may be in one going down to the hulks. No matter, said Darby, we must emigrate, So, come down at midnight, and don't be too late; Bring some boys whose courage won't easy be cooled, And we'll dig till daylight to find all the gould. They arrive at the castle, about one o'clock, Where Dan dreamt he found all the gould in a crock; They all set to work with picks, shovels and spades, And a hole , that would swallow a house, soon was made Says Darby: Bad luck to the curse we must give, Or we'll be beggars as long as we live! Says Dan: May the devil on my back be stooled, For, I have bursted my breeches in digging for gould. The prayers availed nothin, the crock was not found, Tim rooney he lifted it over the ground; With joy Darby leaped on the back of Ned Flail, Like a fish from the stream with a hook in his tail. Says Darby: My wife won't abuse me to-night When I take home the shiners so yellow and bright! I'll buy house and land about Kilcool; And we'll all bless the night we went digging for gould! The crock was then placed on Darby's own back To carry home, and each man have his whack; They arrived at the door with the gould to be sacked, When Mac with a spade knocked the crock into smash. Poor Darby, near smothered, run in with a fright, His wife jumps up to get him a light, When she heard Darby mourning her passion was cooled, She knew by the smell he was covered with gould. |
Subject: ADD: THE CELTIC CROSS From: MMario Date: 14 Aug 01 - 03:53 PM THE CELTIC CROSS (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p 45) Through stormn, and fire, and gloom, I see it stand, Firm, broad and tall- The Celtic Cross that marks our Father-land, A,id them all! Druids, and Danes, and Saxons vainly rage Around its base; It standeth shock on schock, and age on age, Star of a scattered race. O, Holy Cross! Dear symbol of the dread Death of our Lord, Around thee long have slept our Martyr-dead, Sward over sward! An hundred Bishops I myself can count Among the slain.; Chiefs, Captains, rank and file, a shining mount Of God's ripe grain. The Monarch's mace, the Puritan claymore, Smote thee not down; On headland steep, on mountain summit hear, In mart and town; In Glendalough, in Ara, in Tyrone, We find thee still, Thy open arms still stretching to thine own, O'er town, and lough, and hill. And they would tear thee out of Irish soil, The guilty fools! How time must mock their antiquated toil and broken tools! Cranmer and Cromwell from they grasp retired, Baffled and thrown; William and Ann to sap thy site conspired- The rest is known! Holy Saint Patrick, Father of oour Faith, Beloved of God! Shield thy dear church from the impending scaith, Or, if the rod Must scourge it yet again, inspire and raise To emprise high, Men like the heroic race of other days, Who joyed to die! Fear! Wherefore should the Celtic people fear Their Church's fate? The day is not - the day was never near - Could desolate The Destined Island, all whose seedy clay Is holy ground- Its cross shall stand till that predestined day, When Erin's self is drowned! |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 14 Aug 01 - 04:26 PM There are several broadside copies of Digging For Go[u]ld at Bodleian Library Broadside Ballads. No tune is indicated, but it's worth mentioning that broadside copies of The Humours of Donnybrook (the one that starts "Here I am boys a sample of precious bad luck, not "To donnybrook steer all ye sons of Parnassus", which latter is also known as Donnybrook Fair) name Digging for Gold as tune; the jig The Humours of Donnybrook is also known as The One (or Old) Horned Sheep, and may be found under those titles at J C's Tunefinder. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 14 Aug 01 - 04:33 PM Malcolm - thanks for the commentary. You are an incredible asset (Have I said that recently?) But now I'm curious about The one horned sheep |
Subject: ADD: THE LADS WHO LIVED IN IRELAND From: MMario Date: 16 Aug 01 - 10:31 AM THE LADS WHO LIVE IN IRELAND (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND p 47) My name is Ned O'Manney, I was born in sweet Killarney, I can fight, dance, or sing, I can plow, reap or mow; And, if I met a prett girl, I never practise blarney, I've something mor alluring, which perhaps you'd like to know. I'm none of your Bulgrudderies, nor other shabby families But can unto my pedigree a pretty title show: Oh! I'm of the O's and Mac's and likewise the sturdy Whacks, That live and toil in Ireland where the apple praties grow, That live and toil in Ireland where the apple praties grow, I could a deal relate if I could but trace my pedigree: My mothere was a Hogan, but my father I don't know; I've ninety-nine relations in a place the call Roscarberry, And each unto their name has a Mac or an O. My uncle was a Brallaghan, my aunt she was a Callaghan, And as to my charactore, why, I can plainly show. I'm ratin' rovin' blade, and I never was afraid, For I was born in Ireland where the apple praties grow, For I was born in Ireland where the apple praties grow, May Heaven still protect our hospitable country, Where first I drew my living breath and heard its cocks to crow! Adieu to its green hills and its lovely bay of Banty, Where many a pleasant evening my love and I did go- Where shoals of fish so pleasantly did sport about so merrily, Beneath its glassy surface their wanton tricks to show- Oh! Those scenes I did enjoy like a gay, unthinking boy, With the lads who live in Ireland, where the apple praties grow, With the lads who live in Ireland, where the apple praties grow, St Patrick was our saint, and a blessed man in truth was he, Great gifts unto our country he freely did bestow; He banished all the frogs and toads that sheltered in our country, And unto other regions it's they were forced to go. There is one fact, undoubtedly, that cannot contradicted be, For, trace the Irish histroy, and it will plainly show; Search the universe all round, tighter fellows can't be found Than the lads who live in Ireland, where the apple praties grow. Than the lads who live in Ireland, where the apple praties grow. |
Subject: ADD: THE ORANGEMAN'S WIFE From: MMario Date: 16 Aug 01 - 10:40 AM THE ORANGEMAN'S WIFE (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p46) I wander by the limpid shore When fields and flow-ret' bloom; But, O! my heart is sad and sore- My soul is sunk in gloom- All cay I cry ochone! ochone! I weep from night till morn- I wish that I were dead and gone, Or never had been born. My father dwelt beside Tyrone, And with him children five; But I to Charlemnot had gone, At service there to live. O brothers fond! O sister dear! How ill I paid your love! O father! father! how I fear To meet thy soul above! My mother left us long ago- A lovely corpse was she- But we had longer days of woe In this sad world to be. My dreary days will soon be done- I pine in grief forlon; I wish that I were dead and gone, Or never had been born. It was the year of Ninety-Eight, The Wreckers came about: They burned my father's stack of wheat, And drove my brothers out; They forced my sister to their lust- God grant my father rest! For the Captain of the Wreckers thrust A bayonet through his breast. It was a dreadful, dreadful year; And I was blindly led, In love, and lonliness, and fear, A loyal man to wed; And still my heart is his alone, It breaks but cannot turn; I wish that I were dead and gone, Or never had been born. Next year we lived in quiet love, And kissed our infant boy; And peace had spread her wings above Our dwelling at the Moy. And then my wayworn brothers came To share our peace and rest; And poor lost Rose, to hide her shame And sorrow in my breast. They came, but soon they turned and fled- Preserve my soul, O God! It was my husband's hand, they said, That shed my father's blood. All day I cry ochone! ochone! I weep from night till morn; And O, that I were dead and gone, Or never had been born! |
Subject: ADD: The River Roe From: MMario Date: 16 Aug 01 - 10:50 AM THE RIVER ROE (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p47) As I went our one evening, all in the month of June, The primroses and daisies and violets were in bloom; I espied a lovely fair one, and her I did not know, I took her for an angel that was bathing in the Roe. Her teeth were like ivory, her skin a lily white, Her cheeks as red as roses, her eyes like diamonds bright, Her surname I'll not tell, lest you might her know, But her master's habitation is on the river Roe. I quickly stepped up to her, and this to her did say; Are you a goddess, or what brought you this way? She snawered me right modestly, and said: I am not so. I'm but a servant maid that was bathing in the Roe. I said: My pretty fair maid, if with me you'll agree, We'll join our hands in wedlock and wedded we will be: My father, he's a nobleman, the country well does know, And his dwelling lies convenient to the river Roe. She quickly made me answere, and this to me did say: My mistress she is waiting, I have no time to stay, I'll meet lyou to-morrow and my mistress won't know, We'll have som econversing on the river Roe, They both shook hands and parted, from each other did go, In hopes to meet next morning along the river Roe; She dressed herself in private, away then she did go Her true love he was waiting along the river Roe. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 16 Aug 01 - 01:41 PM The River Roe was sung to a variant of the Tramps and Hawkers/ Caroline of Edinburgh Town tune. Additional information can be seen at Andrew Kuntz's The Fiddler's Companion:
A midi of the tune will go to The Mudcat Midi Pages. For the time being, it can be heard via the South Riding Folk Network site:
The River Roe Midi made from notation in The Irish Song Book (A.P. Graves, revised edition, 1895), where it was set to William Allingham's The Winding Banks of Erne. It appears to be the version printed in Joyce's Old Irish Folk Music, and is played through twice to accommodate the length of the stanzas. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 16 Aug 01 - 01:43 PM Grazie, Malcolm. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: GUEST,Michelle Date: 16 Aug 01 - 11:12 PM I am intrigued by all this. Malcolm is amazing! I will try to send a few more pages to you soon MMario...been really busy this last week, but not forgetting. Cheers Michelle |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: GUEST,Martin Ryan Date: 17 Aug 01 - 05:12 AM Great stuff! Regards |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 17 Aug 01 - 08:43 AM It is interesting - I love it, Michelle copies the pages, I type them up, Malcolm researches them...long distance co-operation! |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 17 Aug 01 - 08:46 AM Some further notes, though so far no more tunes: The Celtic Cross was written by Thomas D'Arcy McGee (1821-1868). His poem appeared in Lyra Celtica (1896, revised 1924), with the following note by William Sharp (alias Fiona MacLeod): "This distinguished Irishman is to be accounted only an adopted American. He emigrated to the States in 1842, edited The Boston Pilot, and in 1857 went to Montreal and entered the Canadian Parliament. It was when returning from a night-session that he was assassinated in Ottawa by Fenian malcontents." There was a discussion about him here some months ago: Thomas D'Arcy McGee; I haven't found out what melody the poem was set to. Various McFaddens were the heroes of a series of comic songs, mainly late 19th century "Stage Irish". The Levy Collection has McFadden's Trotting Mare, Since McFadden Bought the Cornet, McFadden's Debut and Learning McFadden To Waltz; but not, unfortunately, our example. There is a copy of The lads who live in Ireland, or Where the apple praties grow at America Singing: Nineteenth-Century Song Sheets. It was printed by H. De Marsan of New York, and is undated. "Composed and Sung by JAS SEYMOUR, at Niblo's, in the "Duke's Motto." The music to be had of H. B. Dodworth, 6 Astor Place." Further enquiries reveal that The Duke's Motto was a musical melodrama written by the Irish actor/playwright John Brougham, based very closely on a French original by Paul Feval. The music was written by the English composer William Henry Montgomery. The play was first produced in 1863 at the Lyceum in London, and subsequently at Niblo's Garden and Daly's Fifth Avenue Theater (both presumably New York). Whether the actor Seymour actually had anything to do with the music or words of the song I have no idea; nor have I found the tune itself. |
Subject: Lyr Add: PATRICK RILEY From: MMario Date: 17 Aug 01 - 11:09 AM Malcolm, you are amazing!
PATRICK RILEY
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Wolfgang Date: 17 Aug 01 - 11:16 AM A 'thank you' each time would make the thread too long, but I am also one of those waiting with joyful anticipation for each new entry. Wolfgang |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Mary in Kentucky Date: 17 Aug 01 - 11:35 AM MMario, I have a midi of Kerry Dance. I assume it will be on your "no tune lise." |
Subject: Lyr Add: MISTER FINAGAN From: MMario Date: 17 Aug 01 - 11:40 AM MISTER FINAGAN (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND -p42) I'm a dacent laboring youth, I wur born in the town of Dunshocaklin, I'm a widower now in my youth since I buried swate Molly McLaughlin; I wur married but once in my life, shure, I'll never commit such a sin again, For I found out when she wur my wife, she wur fond of one Barney McFinagan. Chorus: Whack fil lil lan ta ra le, whack fil lil lan tar a laddy de, Whack fil lil lan ta ra le, with a ri tol lol lol dil de de ae de Her father had castles of mud, of which I wur fond of admiring, They wur built in the time of the flood, for to keep her ancestors dry in; When he found I had Molly bespoke, first he got fat and then he got thin again, In the struggle his gizzard he broke, and we had a corpse of McFinagan. For convenience, the corpse was put along with his friends in the barn shure, While some came to it on foot, while others came down from Dunagrinshore; Wy wife she cried and she sobbed, I chucked her out twice and she got in again, I gave her a belt in the gob, when I wur knocked down by McFinagan. The bed and the corpse was upset, the row it commenced in a minute, shure, Divil a bit of a stick had I got till they broke all the legs of the furniture; In faith, as the blood flew about, eyes were shoved out and shoved in ag'in; I got a southwestern clout, which knocked me on top of poor Finagan. How long I was dead I don't know, but this I know, I wasn't livin' shure, I awoke wid a pain in my toe, bor they were foth tied wid a ribbon, shure; I opened my mouth for to spake, the shate was roll'd up to my chin again, "Och, Molly," says I, "I'm awake;" "Oh," says she, "you'll be buried wid Finagan." I opened my eyes for to see-I strove to get up to knock her about- I fount that my two toes were tield like a spoon in a pot of thick stirabout, But I soon got the use of my toes, by a friend of the corpse, Larry Gilligan, Who helped me get into my clothes, for to spread a grass quilt over Finagan. Och, my she devil came home from the spree, full of whisky and ripe from the buryin' shure, And she showed so much mercy to me, as a hungry man shows a red herrin', shure; One billy-go-fister I gave, which caused her to grunt and to grin again, In six months I opened the grave, and slapped her on the bones of Finagan. It's now that I'm single again, I'll spend my time rakin' and batterin', I'll go to the fair wid the men, and dance wid the girls for a patterin'; They'll swear that I am stuck to a tee, and as they say to catch him ag'in But they'll not come the cuckle o'er me, for they might be related to Finagan. Mary - tune and lyrics at Kerry Dances thread here |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Mary in Kentucky Date: 17 Aug 01 - 11:57 AM Ah yes...but mine has that third verse key change...and is prettier. (could it be because I heard it that way first?) |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 17 Aug 01 - 12:00 PM okey-dokey...zip it to me in e-mail and I'll put the words to it and send it off to Joe. Monday. oops! Tuesday - If I can wake up (end of season party sunday night....monday will not exist.) |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 17 Aug 01 - 01:08 PM There are two copies of Barnaby Fin[n]egan at Bodleian Library Broadside Ballads. The following is the more legible, and is significantly different from the version quoted above: Barnaby Finnegan J. Scott of Pittenweem and J.Wood of Edinburgh. No tune is specified. There is a tune in O'Neill, however, which might be a possibility; it can be found via J C's Tunefinder: Barney O'Finnegan. The coincidence of title may of course mean nothing, but I suppose it's a start. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: GUEST,Michelle Date: 17 Aug 01 - 10:08 PM Oh guys, I forgot to mention...My friend delivered a 40 ouncer of good ole Irish Whiskey to me this week...hahahah it was a thank you for giving him those last 2 verses of "The Irish Rebel Spy". I almost feel guilty, I can't share it with you...almost...but I am sure I will manage to get a nip down. |
Subject: Lyr Add: THE BOYS OF KILKENNY From: MMario Date: 23 Aug 01 - 10:40 AM THE BOYS OF KILKENNY (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p44) OH, the boys of Kilkenny are nate roving blades, And whenever they meet with the nice little maids, They kiss them and coax them and spend their money free! Oh, of all the towns in Ireland, Kilkenny for me! Through the town of Kilkenny there runs a clear stream, In the Town of Kilkenny there lives a fair dame, Her cheeks are like roses, and her lips much the same, Or a dish of ripe strawberries smothered in cream. Her eyes are as black as Kilkenny's famed coal, And 'tis they through my poor heart have burned a big hole; Her mind, like its river, is deep, clear and pure, And her heart is more hard than its marble, I'm sure. Oh, Kilkenny's a fine town, that shines where it stands, And the more I think on it the more my heart warms: If I was in Kilkenny I'd feel quite at home, For it's there I'd get sweethearts, but here I got none. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 23 Aug 01 - 10:53 AM In the DT: BOYS OF KILKENNY
The tune (in abc format) is here: TUNE ADD: Meeting of The Waters
See also Origins of Bonny Portmore
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Subject: Lyr Add: MICHAEL DWYER From: MMario Date: 23 Aug 01 - 10:57 AM *dang!* I did look, honest!
MICHAEL DWYER |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Wolfgang Date: 23 Aug 01 - 11:33 AM Background to the Michael Dwyer song: Michael Dwyer 'The Battle of Derrynamuck' (Feb 1799) down on that page seems to be the event that is described in the above song in poetic detail. Wolfgang |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Wolfgang Date: 23 Aug 01 - 11:38 AM An even more detailed account gives the 15th of February as the exact date of the incident. Wolfgang |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 23 Aug 01 - 11:42 AM This particular Michael Dwyer was written by Thomas D. O' Sullivan, (b. 1827), and that's all I can find about the song just now, except that the place is usually spelled Imaal. As a folk-hero, Dwyer features in a number of songs. Here's one in the DT: MICHAEL DWYER |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 23 Aug 01 - 11:48 AM Sorry; that should be Timothy, not Thomas, and the link should be MICHAEL DWYER |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 07 Sep 01 - 09:58 AM judt got two more page scans - which include: two additional verses to The RIVER ROE Paddy at the Theater Brian the Brave The memory of the Dead Mary of Tipperary O'Rielly the Fisherman The Irish Hurrah (the last two are going to be missing some words as the page is ripped) |
Subject: ADD: THE RIVER ROE - addendum From: MMario Date: 07 Sep 01 - 10:00 AM THE RIVER ROE - addendum When she came up to him he thus to her did say: I'm glad to meet you here, my love, on this very day I'm glad to meet you her, love, the way that I will know; If you're going to wed with me and dwell beside the river Roe. She modestly did answer and said she was content, I kissed and embraced her, and away both went: We were married next evening, as you will shortly know, She had serrvants to attend her, and she dwell upon the Roe. It was within ten miles of Newton, convenient to the tide, You'll find my habitation convenient to the soil, You'll see ships from Limerick sailing down the silvery tide, And the lads and lassies sparking along the river side, Farewell to friends and parents, and to the flowing quay, Likewise my old acquaintance, and I have no time to stay; Here is health to my own sweetheart, the girl that you know, And we will sing to the maid that dwells along the river Roe. |
Subject: Lyr Add: PADDY AT THE THEATER From: MMario Date: 07 Sep 01 - 10:45 AM PADDY AT THE THEATER (SONGS AND BALLADS OF IRELAND - p48) From the County Monaghan lately I came, I'm a tinker by trade, Larry Dooly's my name; My cousin, Tim Murphy, I met yesterday, Says he, Mr. Dooly'll come to the play! Derry down, down, down, derry down. Is it the play that you mean, are you sure that you're right? They're treating the town to Pizzaro to-night; But the treat, as he called it, and the one that I mean, Bad luck to his treat, it cost me all my tin. Derry down, down, down, derry down. Well, the green curtain drew up, and a lady I spied, When a man came to kiss her she scornfully cried: Get out, you big blackguard, I'll bother your jig! When in comes Pizzaro with a grunt like a pig Derry down, down, down, derry down. In the days of ould Goury, a long time ago, The Spaniards claimed war 'gainst Peru , you know, The demanded its cash, its jewels and keys, When a boy, they called Rowler, says: no, if you please. Derry down, down, down, derry down. The Rowler came in like a day-star appeared, He made a long speech and the sojers all cheered Says he, Beat well the Spaniards, and do the neat thing, And then , boys, stand up for your country and king. Derry down, down, down, derry down. The Mr. Murphy Alonzo somehow went to jail, He got out by a back door without giving bail; While Rowler was jumping o'er brides and greens, He was shot by some blackguard behind the big screens. Derry down, down, down, derry down. Then Rowler came forward, and with him a child, Looking all for the world like a man that was wild; Here's your gossoon, dear Cora, it's my own blood that's spilt In defense of your child, blood an' 'ounds, I'm kilt! Derry down, down, down, derry down. The Alonzo and Pizzaro had a terrible fight Pizzaro got killed, that seemed perfectly right; For the audience came down with showers of applause, They were all enlisted in the Peruvian's cause. Derry down, down, down, derry down. Then Alonzo came forward and handsomely bowed, Saying: Ladies and gentlemen, meaning the crowd, By your kind permission, to-morrow, then, We will murder Pizzaro over again. Derry down, down, down, derry down.
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 07 Sep 01 - 12:51 PM Paddy at the Theater was presumably set to one form or other of the Derry Down tune. There are several in the DT; the one with KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY would fit the bill:
Remember the Glories of Brian the Brave was written by Thomas Moore, and set to the tune Molly MacAlpine, of which variants may be found under a great many names; for some of them, see: Tune Req: Carolan's Dream.
The Memory of the Dead was written by John Kells Ingram (b. 1822) with music by W.E. Hudson. I'll put up a midi once you've posted the text.
Mary of Tipperary (The Irish Milkmaid's Song) was written by Samuel Lover. Sheet music (1857) is available at The Lester S. Levy Collection of Sheet Music:
MARY OF TIPPERARY. THE IRISH MILKMAID'S SONG.
I feel sure that I've seen O'Reilly the Fisherman recently, probably here; but I'm blessed if I can find it. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 07 Sep 01 - 01:39 PM "The Memory of the Dead" is in the DT with midi. - as sheet music is available for "Mary of Tipperary" - I'll skip that as well. I found a number of references to recordings of "O'Reilly the Fisherman" on the web - but no lyrics or tunes. As usual - thanks Malcolm for the additional information and the tune connections!
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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MartinRyan Date: 07 Sep 01 - 02:45 PM Malcolm There was a mention of (O')Reilly the Fisherman HERE in the Forum, referring to the version in O'Lochalinn's "More Irish Street Ballads" Regards |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Malcolm Douglas Date: 07 Sep 01 - 03:44 PM Thankyou, Martin! I don't have O'Lochlainn's second volume (though there's a copy in the City Library if I need it), but armed with that information I found a text and a couple of alternative titles on the net. It turns out that there are two versions in the DT: REILLY'S FAREWELL. Version from Nova Scotia; no tune.
The song even has a DT number, DT #463, and a Laws number, M8. There is an entry at The Traditional Ballad Index:
Riley's Farewell (Riley to America; John Riley) [Laws M8]
There also appears to be a set at the Max Hunter Folk Song Collection, but it's not yet available online. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 07 Sep 01 - 03:56 PM the version "here" is almost the same as the nova scotia example linked by malcolm above - there are a couple of verses in that condensed compared to the scan Michele sent. I'll try to get it typed up early next week. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: GUEST,Michelle Date: 18 Nov 02 - 09:53 PM Wow I wish I had kept this up |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: GUEST,Ard Mhacha Date: 19 Nov 02 - 02:46 PM Just come on to this thread, the song Patrick Reilly states that Reilly came from "Clonis" in the County Tyrone, I have never come across a "Clonis" in County Tyrone. This should be Clones in County Monaghan and there is a better chance of meeting with a Reilly in that particular County than in CountyTyrone. Ard Mhacha. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 23 Apr 03 - 09:20 AM hey Michelle - never too late... |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: GUEST,Martin Ryan Date: 23 Apr 03 - 09:43 AM Did we ever establish what this book was? Regards |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: MMario Date: 23 Apr 03 - 09:53 AM nope |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: GUEST,Martin Ryan Date: 23 Apr 03 - 10:17 AM I can't see it being a London publication by Boosey, as suggested much earlier in this thread. More likely American. Spelling evidence? Regards |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: IRISH SONGS AND BALLADS From: Bearheart Date: 23 Apr 03 - 10:39 AM Thanks for this thread. Have traced it for ref. Bekki |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Irish Songs and Ballads From: GUEST Date: 17 Aug 07 - 01:39 PM Peg ; No one seems to have answered your question about "Her mantle so green" I would recommend " Margaret Barry's recording............Mike |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Irish Songs and Ballads From: Bob the Postman Date: 18 Aug 07 - 12:03 PM "Mantle So Green" lyrics here in Digitrad. The lyrics of Fred Redden's version are here. You can order a CD of field recordings of this Novca Scotia source singer from the Helen Creighton Folklore Society. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Irish Songs and Ballads From: ard mhacha Date: 13 May 08 - 04:50 PM Try lorgain2 for Her mantle so green sung by Sinead O`Connor. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Irish Songs and Ballads From: ard mhacha Date: 14 May 08 - 12:25 PM That is lorgain2 You Tube. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Irish Songs and Ballads From: GUEST,paf1968 Date: 14 Mar 09 - 10:45 AM Several years ago when the Catholic and Protistants were still fighting in Northern Ireland, one of the TV [ABC, CBS, NBC] networks did a documentary of the conflict. I remember watching part of it and hearing this lady sing a really pretty ballad. The only lyrics I can recall is "I had three fine sons". If anyone has any idea what the song is I would love to know. |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Irish Songs and Ballads From: MartinRyan Date: 14 Mar 09 - 10:51 AM You may be thinking of THIS ONE Regards |
Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Irish Songs and Ballads From: Jim Dixon Date: 16 Mar 09 - 05:29 PM I believe the book MMario has been copying from is actually this one: Irish Com-All-Ye's: A Repository of Ancient Irish Songs and Ballads—Comprising Patriotic, Descriptive, Historical and Humorous Gems, Characteristic of the Irish Race Compiled and arranged by Manus O'Conor (New York: L. Lipkind, 1901) Although the title page says "Irish Com-All-Ye's" the page heading on all the pages is "Songs and Ballads of Ireland." I have posted an index to this book in the thread Irish Songbook Index PermaThread There is also a link there to the page images at Google Books. |
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