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10 Nov 08 - 12:40 PM (#2489967) Subject: Lyr Add: MY BEAUTY OF LIMERICK From: ard mhacha Two songs not on Mudcat, both songs can be heard on You Tube, on lorgain2, Dobbins flowery vale By James Garland [Lurgan 1830s] One morning fair as Phoebus bright his radiant charms display'd When Flora in her verdant garb the fragrant plains array'd, As I did rove throughout each grove, no care did me assail, When a pair I spied by a riverside in Dobbin's Flowery Vale. As I sat down them to behold beneath a spreading tree The limpid streams that gently roll'd convey'd these words to me: "Farewell, sweet maid" the youth he said, "For now I must set sail, I'll bid adieu to sweet Armagh and Dobbin's Flowery Vale." "Forbear these thoughts and cruel words that wound a bleeding heart, For is it true that we're met here, alas, so soon to part? Must I alone here sigh and moan, to none my grief reveal, But here lament my cause to vent in Dobbin's Flowery Vale?" "Unwilling I am to part with you, no longer I can stay, For Love and Freedom cry "Pursue", those words I must obey In foreign lands where Freedom smiles, or by the earth conceal'd I will come home no more to roam from Dobbin's Flowery Vale." Its mutual love together drew both in a kind embrace, While tears like rosy drops of dew did trickle down her face. She strove in vain him to detain, but while she did bewail He bid adieu and I withdrew from Dobbin's Flowery Vale. My Beauty of Limerick I sing of a loved one who's dear unto me, Although we are parted by the deep rolling sea, My thoughts gladly wander to Erin's green shore, Where dwells my sweet treasure mavourneen asthore. I sigh when I think of our farewell good-bye, When she tried for to keep the sad tear from her eye; Saying "Patrick, God bless you and bring you safe home, To the heart that is melting for you alone," How well I remember the promise I gave; To go be to old Ireland when money I'd save. For there's no girl fairer nor lovelier than she, My beauty of Limerick, acushla Machree. I place 'neath my pillow at night, ere I sleep, The beautiful token she gave me to keep--- The wee bit of ribbon she took from her hair--- No king has a jewel more precious or rare. In the morn when I waken I press to my heart, My colleen's last gift---from it ne'er will I part; For it comes from the dearest and the sweetest to me, My beauty of Limerick, acushla Machree. |
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10 Nov 08 - 03:53 PM (#2490163) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: My beauty of Limerick and Dobbins flower From: GUEST,Malcolm Douglas (not at home) See also thread dobbin's flowery vale |
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11 Nov 08 - 04:39 AM (#2490544) Subject: RE: Lyr Add: My beauty of Limerick and Dobbins flower From: ard mhacha Thanks Malcolm for the link to the Thread, |
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12 Nov 08 - 09:04 AM (#2491652) Subject: Lyr Add: BEAUTY OF LIMERICK From: Jim Dixon Another version from Wehman Bros.' Pocket-Size Irish Song Book, No. 1. New York: Wehman Bros., 1909: BEAUTY OF LIMERICK. I sing of my loved one—an idol to me, Though we are parted by the deep rolling sea: My thoughts gladly wander to Erin's green shore. Where dwells my sweet treasure, mavourneen asthore. By the side of the brooklet, a clear running stream, I fancy I see her, my cushla machree; Oh, there's no girl fairer nor lovelier than she. My beauty of Limerick, acushla machree; Oh, there's no girl fairer nor lovelier than she, My beauty of Limerick, acushla machree. I sigh when I think of our farewell good-bye, You strived for to keep the sad tear from your eye; Poor Paddy, God save you and send you straight home, The heart that is melting for you all alone. Sure don't I remember the promise I gave: I'd go back to old Ireland when money I'd save. Oh, there's no girl fairer nor lovelier than she, My beauty of Limerick, acushla machree; Oh, there's no girl fairer nor lovelier than she, My beauty of Limerick, acushla machree. I place 'neath my pillow at night, when I sleep, A sweet little token she gave me to keep— A wee bit of ribbon she took from her hair— No king has a jewel more precious or rare. In the morn when awakened I press to my heart My colleen's last gift—with it never I'll part; It comes from the fairest, the loveliest to me. My beauty of Limerick, acushla machree; Oh, there's no girl fairer nor lovelier than she, My beauty of Limerick, acushla machree. |