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Lyr Add: Edward Boyle

GUEST,Rory 13 Sep 23 - 05:47 AM
GUEST,Rory 13 Sep 23 - 05:58 AM
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Subject: Lyr Add: Edward Boyle
From: GUEST,Rory
Date: 13 Sep 23 - 05:47 AM

Edward Boyle

Also known as: My Charming Edward Boyle

round# 2906

A traditional emigration song from County Fermanagh, about a woman who laments and mourns the departing of her partner, Edward Boyle, whom has left Ireland for Columbus shores, America.

Earliest printed version can be found in the Schools' Folklore Collection 1937/1938 held at University College Dublin as part of the National Folklore Collection
Vol 0947, page 335-337
Collector: Una McCaffrey
Performer: Collector's grandmother
School location: Clonye, Co. Monaghan, Ireland

Edward Boyle

You tender hearted females of a high and low degree.
And also wounded lovers come sympathise with me.
Its here I am bewailing the lad whom I adore.
He has now fled from my arms, bound for Columbus shore.

Well I do remember it being in the month of May.
When floras flowery mantle bedecked the meadows gay.
When everything looked charming and all nature turned to smile.
As I parted with my own true love my charming Edward Boyle.

In the county of Fermanagh in the parish of Rosslea.
In the townland of Gra-warra near the mountain of Slieve Bay.
He was reared by honest parents for whom their hands did toil.
And now their sunk in sorrow for the loss of Edward Boyle.

His comrades all are lonesome since Edward's gone away.
He was the pride of Collage land his flute so well could play.
His comrades all both great and small they swear they'll leave this Isle.
In hopes once more on Columbus shore to meet with Edward Boyle.

His friends like wise his neighbours they all did him convey
Into the town of Monaghan without the least delay.
With courage bold he did set sail and he left the Shamrock shore.
All joy be with you Edward will we ever see you more.

My curse on you Columbus who first found out the shore.
Likewise the ship called Merrick Rope that sailed in days of yore.
If I was possessed of all the wealth that is on St Patricks Isle. I'd part it all with pleasure for one sight of Edward Boyle.

Now to conclude and finish all you young maids be true.
Never place your mind on wealth as true-lovers off times do.
From this day down sure I am bound in sorrow grief and toil.
To lament and mourn my loves return my charming Edward Boyle.

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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Edward Boyle
From: GUEST,Rory
Date: 13 Sep 23 - 05:58 AM


Title: Edward Boyle
Artist: Adrienne O'Shea
Album: Threads of Gold (2023)

Edward Boyle

You tender-hearted maidens,
of a high and a low degree
Likewise you wounded lovers,
come listen unto me
Whilst here I am bewailing
a youth whom I adore
That is now going from my arms,
bound for Columbia’s shore

In the time I well remember,
it was in the month of May
When Flora’s flowery mantle
bedecked the meadows gay
The fields were decorated,
all Nature seemed to smile
It was there that I parted from my own true love,
my charming Edward Boyle

His friends and relations,
they did him then convey
To Belfast town of high renown
until he reached the quay
And with courage bold he did set sail
and he left that Shamrock Shore
All joys be with you Edward Boyle,
will I ever see you more?

In the county of Fermanagh,
in the parish of Rosslea
In the lands of Brahawaddy,
in the mountains of Trory Bay
Brought up by honest parents
whom did together toil
But sure now they are sunk in sorrows
for the loss of their Edward Boyle

This country has grown lonesome
since young Edward, he went away
He was the pride of the college land,
how sweet his flute could play
His comrades all both great and small,
they swore they’d leave the soil
In hopes once more, on Columbia’s shore
they would meet with young Edward Boyle.

My curse on you Columbus,
‘twas you found out the way
And likewise to Amerikay
that has stolen my love away
From that time down sure
we are bound in hardship, grief, and toil
To lament and mourn for our love’s return,
like I for young Edward Boyle

Now to conclude and finish,
young men and maids be true
Let you never part for riches great
as some false lovers do
For if I possessed of this universe
St. Patrick’s blessed isle
I would part it all, and ten times more
for one glimpse of you, Edward Boyle

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