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Lyr Add: Me and Me Da (Livin' in Drumlister)

Aidan Crossey 29 Jun 01 - 09:28 AM
ard mhacha 29 Jun 01 - 02:15 PM
ard mhacha 29 Jun 01 - 02:21 PM
Peter K (Fionn) 29 Jun 01 - 05:13 PM
Aidan Crossey 02 Jul 01 - 06:44 AM
paddymac 02 Jul 01 - 07:16 AM
Aidan Crossey 02 Jul 01 - 07:24 AM
Brakn 02 Jul 01 - 08:00 AM
ard mhacha 02 Jul 01 - 08:07 AM
ShankhillPhantom 17 Jul 01 - 10:58 AM
Big Tim 17 Jul 01 - 01:43 PM
ard mhacha 17 Jul 01 - 02:38 PM
Den 17 Jul 01 - 08:41 PM
Peter K (Fionn) 18 Jul 01 - 08:25 AM
Big Tim 18 Jul 01 - 01:19 PM
Peter K (Fionn) 20 Jul 01 - 08:27 PM
Big Tim 21 Jul 01 - 02:14 AM
ShankhillPhantom 21 Jul 01 - 03:24 AM
GUEST,Mary Josephine 04 Oct 11 - 07:07 PM
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Subject: Lyr Add: ME AND ME DA (LIVIN' IN DRUMLISTER)
From: Aidan Crossey
Date: 29 Jun 01 - 09:28 AM

Here's a reci-ma-tation that some mudcatters will be familiar with. (Ard Mhacha will surely be able to recite it word-for-word?)

When I was a wee lad, being dragged along to Guest Teas at Trasna or the Kesh Hall or other such places, there'd always be some oul' one who'd get up and do their turn. And my granny and my ma would find it all very amusing.

I'd be awash, of course, with the arrogance of youth and find it all terribly yawnsome. However - with the benefit of a few years on me, I'm not so cocky.

So, I'm not aware that "Me and Me Da" has been laid out before you in the past. If it has apologies for the repetition. If it hasn't, hope some of you enoy it either because you're coming across it for the first time or because it rekindles memories.

Me An' Me Da

I'm livin' in Drumlister,
An' I'm gettin very oul',
I have to wear an Indian bag
To save me from the coul'.
The deil a man in this townlan'
Wos claner raired nor me,
But I'm livin' in Drumlister
In clabber to the knee.

Me da lived up in Carmin,
An' kep' a sarvint boy;
His second wife wos very sharp,
He birried her with joy:
Now she wos thin, her name was Flynn,
She come from Cullentra,
An' if me shirt's a clatty shirt
The man to blame's me da.

Consarnin' weemin, sure it wos
A constant word of his,
`Keep far away from them that's thin,
Their temper's aisy riz.'
Well, I knowed two I thought wud do,
But still I had me fears,
So I kiffled back an' forrit
Between the two, for years.

Wee Margit had no fortune
But two rosy cheeks wud plaze;
The farm of lan' wos Bridget's,
But she tuk the pock disayse:
An' Margit she wos very wee,
An' Bridget she wos stout
But her face wos like a gaol dure
With the boults pulled out.

I'll tell no lie on Margit,
She thought the worl' of me;
I'll tell the truth, me heart wud lep
The sight of her to see
But I wos slow, ye surely know,
The raison of it now,
If I left her home from Carmin
Me da wud rise a row.

So I swithered back an' forrit
Till Margit got a man;
A fella come from Mullaslin
An' left me jist the wan.
I mind the day she went away,
I hid wan strucken hour,
An' cursed the wasp from Cullentra
That made me da so sour.

But cryin' cures no trouble,
To Bridget I went back,
An' faced her for it that night week
Beside her own turf-stack.
I axed her there, an' spoke her fair,
The handy wife she d make me,
I talked about the lan' that joined
- Begob, she wudn't take me!

So I'm livin' in Drumlister
An' I'm get'tin' very oul'
I creep to Carmin wanst a month
To thry an' make me sowl:
The deil a man in this townlan'
Wos claner raired nor me,
An' I'm dyin' in Drumlister
In clabber to the knee.

By "The Bard of Tyrone"
The Reverend William Marshall
© The Estate of Margaret Marshall


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: ard mhacha
Date: 29 Jun 01 - 02:15 PM

Hello My oul`Cash mate, dead on. From The Collected Ballads and Verses of The Rev W.F. Marshall, The Bard of Tyrone. Published by the Blackstaff Press Ltd Slan Ard Mhacha.


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: ard mhacha
Date: 29 Jun 01 - 02:21 PM

Hello All, The Indian bag referred to in the first verse is a throwback to the Potato Famine. Maize or Indian Corn was sent over from the US in Cwt Bags to feed the starving, and the Hessian bags when empty made handy aprons. Slan Ard Mhacha.


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: Peter K (Fionn)
Date: 29 Jun 01 - 05:13 PM

Blackstaff have have done a great job keeping Ulster's heritage alive in print, but publishing the W F Marshall collection was certainly one of their finest hours.

I've seldom heard Me an' me Da' without someone (or the same one) doing Wee Wullie (Elizabeth Shane?) as well. But no self-respecting declaimer of Ulster verse would step forth without Florence Wilson's The Man from God Knows Where in his/her repertoire. Alas, in most of Britain and Ireland, declaiming verse is a dying art, with the honourable exception of Scotland on Burns night.


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Subject: Lyr Add: WEE HUGHIE + THE MAN FROM GOD KNOWS WHERE
From: Aidan Crossey
Date: 02 Jul 01 - 06:44 AM

Fionn ...

Is it Wee Hughie you mean? If so, can you help out with verse 5?. I'm not sure it's right!

WEE HUGHIE
He's gone to school, Wee Hughie,
An' him not four,
Sure I saw the fright was in him
When he left the door.

But he took a hand o' Denny
An' a hand o' Dan,
Wi' Joe's owld coat upon him -
Och, the poor wee man !

He cut the quarest figure,
More stout nor thin;
An trottin' right an' steady
Wi' his toes turned in.

I watched him to the corner
O' the big turf stack,
An' the more the feet went forrit,
Still his head turned back.

He was lookin', would I call him -
Och, me heart was woe
Sure it' lost I am without him,
But he be to go.

I followed to the turnin'
When he passed it by,
God help him, he was cryin',
An', maybe, so was I.

And here's a version of the Man From God-Knows-Where. Again I can't vouch that I've got it all down 100% accurately. If there are any errors, let me know and it can be corrected.

THE MAN FROM GOD KNOWS WHERE

Into our townlan' on a night of snow
rode a man from God knows where;
None of us bade him stay or go,
nor deemed him friend, nor damned him foe,
but we stabled his big roan mare;
for in our townlan' we're decent folk,
and if he didn't speak, why none of us spoke,
and we sat till the fire burned low.

We're a civil sort in our wee place
so we made the circle wide
round Andy Lennon's cheerful blaze,
and wished the man his length of days
and a good end to his ride.
He smiled in under his slouchy hat,
says he: 'There's a bit of a joke in that,
for we ride different ways.'

The whiles we smoked we watched him stare
from his seat fornenst the glow.
I nudged Joe Moore: 'You wouldn't dare
to ask him who he's for meeting there,
and how far he has got to go?'
And Joe wouldn't dare, nor Wully Scott,
And he took no drink - neither cold nor hot,
this man from God knows where.

It was closing time, and late forbye,
when us ones braved the air.
I never saw worse (may I live or die)
than the sleet that night, an' I says, says I:
'You'll find he's for stopping there.'
But at screek o'day, through the gable pane
I watched him spur in the peltin' rain,
an' I juked from his rovin' eye.

Two winters more, then the Trouble year,
when the best that a man could feel
was the pike that he kept in hidin' near,
till the blood o' hate an' the blood o' fear
would be redder nor rust on the steel.
Us ones quit from mindin' the farms
Let them take what we gave wi' the weight o' our arms
from Saintfield to Kilkeel.

In the time o' the Hurry, we had no lead
we all of us fought with the rest
an' if e'er a one shook like a tremblin' reed,
none of us gave neither hint nor heed,
nor ever even we'd have guessed.
We men of the North had a word to say,
an'we said it then, in our own dour way,
an' we spoke as we thought was best.

All Ulster over, the weemin cried
for the stan'in' crops on the lan'.
Many's the sweetheart and many's the bride
would liefer ha' gone to where he died,
and ha' mourned her lone by her man.
But us ones weathered the thick of it
and we used to dander along and sit
in Andy's, side by side.

What with discourse goin' to and fro,
the night would be wearin' thin,
yet never so late when we rose to go
but someone would say: 'do ye min' thon' snow,
an 'the man who came wanderin'in?'
and we'd all fall to the talk again,
if by any chance he was one o' them
The man who went like the win'.

Well 'twas gettin' on past the heat o' the year
when I rode to Newtown fair;
I sold as I could (the dealers were near
only three pounds eight for the Innish steer,
an' nothin' at all for the mare!)
I met McKee in the throng o' the street,
says he: 'The grass has grown under our feet
since they hanged young Warwick here.',

And he told me that Boney had promised help
to a man in Dublin town.
Says he: 'If you've laid the pike on the shelf,
you'd better go home hot-fut by yourself,
an' once more take it down.'
So by Comber road I trotted the grey
and never cut corn until Killyleagh
stood plain on the risin' groun'.

For a wheen o' days we sat waitin' the word
to rise and go at it like men,
but no French ships sailed into Cloughey Bay
and we heard the black news on a harvest day
that the cause was lost again;
and Joey and me, and Wully Boy Scott,
we agreed to ourselves we'd as lief as not
ha' been found in the thick o' the slain.

By Downpatrick goal I was bound to fare
on a day I'll remember, feth;
for when I came to the prison square
the people were waitin' in hundreds there
an' you wouldn't hear stir nor breath!
For the sodgers were standing, grim an' tall,
round a scaffold built there fornent the wall,
an' a man stepped out for death!

I was brave an' near to the edge of the throng,
yet I knowed the face again,
an' I knowed the set, an' I knowed the walk
an' the sound of his strange up-country talk,
for he spoke out right an' plain.
Then he bowed his head to the swinging rope,
whiles I said 'Please God' to his dying hope
and 'Amen' to his dying prayer
that the wrong would cease and the right prevail,
for the man that they hanged at Downpatrick gaol
was the Man from God knows where!


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: paddymac
Date: 02 Jul 01 - 07:16 AM

I have read "The Man From God Knows Where" a time or two, but it really came to life for me when I heard Phil Coulter (another Ulsterman) recite it as part of a show in San Francisco a couple of years ago. Perhaps it's one of those poems that's meant to be recited and heard rather than read. The "Man", I think I've read, is/was Thomas Russell, an organizer/messenger for the United Irishman. Correct?


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: Aidan Crossey
Date: 02 Jul 01 - 07:24 AM

Correct as far as I know.

Here's a couple of links.

Click

Click


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: Brakn
Date: 02 Jul 01 - 08:00 AM

"The Man From God Knows Where"

Previous thread


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: ard mhacha
Date: 02 Jul 01 - 08:07 AM

Hello Derrymacash, dead on with the two, Yes Thomas Russell "The Man from God knows where" was hanged outside Downpatrick Jail on October 13th 1803, he was a County Cork man, he was destined for the Church of Ireland ministry, but due to his great friendship with the irish patriot Wolfe Tone, he was caught up in his countrys fight for freedom and thus ended his short life [36] at Downpatrick Jail. Well done, up the `Cash. Slan Ard Mhacha.


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: ShankhillPhantom
Date: 17 Jul 01 - 10:58 AM

Hello Oliver I've joined the ranks of the elite now , the only trouble is I do'nt know what to do with this new found power . Francie


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: Big Tim
Date: 17 Jul 01 - 01:43 PM

Coincidentally both Me an my da, and The man from..... are included in Niall Toibin's "Irish Reciter". It's Andy Lemon, incidentally, not Lennon, in The man from... I have researched Florence Wilson and her great poem and written a piece on the subject, scheduled for publication this Autumn in "Due North" the local history magazine of NI Libraries. If anyone is interested email me at, mastermcgrath@hotmail.com and I'll forward the text to you. PS are you folks aware that The man from...was set to music in 1979 and brilliantly so? I discussed this on one of my early threads but got little response at that time.


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: ard mhacha
Date: 17 Jul 01 - 02:38 PM

Wtch that Phantom man, hes been around long enough to have bet on The Master. Ard Mhacha.


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: Den
Date: 17 Jul 01 - 08:41 PM

Derry you are right on with the 5th verse of Wee Hughie. Both these poems and a great host besides are to be found in the wonderful collection, Rich and Rare by Sean McMahon, published by Poolbeg. Its a great book and I'd highly recommend it to anyone. The description of the collection goes as follows:
A treasure-house of tradition,
a store of ballads, songs sung at firesides,
poems recalling a noble past.
A rich vein of fantasy, humour and romance,
capturing the soul of a nation.
A book for everyone who loves Ireland.
There you go I couldn't have said it any better myself, Den.


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: Peter K (Fionn)
Date: 18 Jul 01 - 08:25 AM

"Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
And a bright gold ring on her wand she bore..."

A fine collection indeed, Den, and wonderfully well presented. I've plugged it more than one myself at Mudcat.

Derrymacash, this apology is long overdue, but I was laid low by a life-threatening virus in this computer ("MTX.9244" to be precise), and it's taken this long to recover to the point where we are no longer infectious. Yes, of course I meant "Wee Hughie." I think I confuse the title with that great old rocker Wee Willy Harris, which just goes to show how old I am.

You've got all the verses pot on, as far as I can see. And you're nearly perfect with The Man from God Knows Where - which is quite some achievement if you did it from memory! On this one, Brakn's version is marginally more accurate. But to to save anyone interested from flicking between the two threads, I'll just offer some trivial corrections to your version that bring it into line with the original, (as faithfully reporduced in Rich & Rare):

Verse 3: But Joe...
Verse 5: ...can feel... Verse 5: you're close enough here, but the original has "quet" rather than "quit". (Brakn's version has mixed both together to produce "quiet"!) Verse 6: "Nor ever even'd we'd guessed" Verse 8: "And we be to fall the talk again"

Also, as Big Tim has already noted, it is indeed Andy Lemon, not Lennon. I wonder if Big Tim's research, or anyone else's knowledge, could tell us whether Andy actually existed? I suspect not, since the piece was written in the 20th century. But if so, that would nail it down to a specific townland.


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: Big Tim
Date: 18 Jul 01 - 01:19 PM

Folks; I've got a copy of Florence Wilson's "The Coming of the Earls" (Dublin -1918)where "The man from..." was originally published. If anyone needs these I can post then but it's 698 words!


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: Peter K (Fionn)
Date: 20 Jul 01 - 08:27 PM

(Apologies for all that emphasis in my last post - mostly not intended of course.) Can anyone explain that phrase in The Man From God Knows Where: "in the year of the Hurry"?


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: Big Tim
Date: 21 Jul 01 - 02:14 AM

I take it to mean 1798, the year of rebellion, "in the time of the hurry, we had no lead". The main leader in Co Down (Wilson territory) was Henry Monro who had only been elected a few days beforehand. The same in Antrim with Henry Joy McCracken. These two in particular were extremely brave and idealistic men but they were not professional soldiers. The rebels, both north and south, were disorganised, spontaneous, amateurish and poorly armed fighting against far more highly developed technology and resources. The poem tho is full of local dialect much of it learned from a peasant servant in the Wilson home when Florence was a very young child. For me is contributes greatly to the poem, it's a journey back in time. Good question though, any other ideas?


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Subject: RE: Me And Me Da (Livin' In Drumlister)
From: ShankhillPhantom
Date: 21 Jul 01 - 03:24 AM

ard mhacha has been discovered ,and so he should. If you keep shouting loud and long someone is bound to hear. Good on you A M ,it could'nt mappen to a better friend Slan Agus Beannacht Phantom


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Subject: RE: Lyr Add: Me and Me Da (Livin' in Drumlister)
From: GUEST,Mary Josephine
Date: 04 Oct 11 - 07:07 PM

i really like these types of recitations about Ireland many years ago and i was wondering if anyone knew of a website that i could fine a collection of these recitations.
Thanks


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