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28 Jun 99 - 01:59 PM (#90413) Subject: Lyric Req.: Old Bog Road From: Laila I'm looking for the lyric of classic Old Bog Road. Thanks. |
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28 Jun 99 - 04:22 PM (#90453) Subject: Lyr Add: THE OLD BOG ROAD (Teresa Brayton) From: Steve I I think this will do it. But will someone please tell me how to get the line feeds in? THE OLD BOG ROAD D AWhen 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. |
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16 Aug 04 - 03:53 AM (#1248485) Subject: RE: Lyric Req.: Old Bog Road From: Joe Offer 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/ |
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27 Jun 05 - 02:16 PM (#1511078) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Old Bog Road From: GUEST,nickr90 Can anyone tell me if Ferns Church referes to Ferns County Wexford? |
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29 May 10 - 06:26 PM (#2916859) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: GUEST,seacker 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. |
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29 May 10 - 07:31 PM (#2916894) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: Brakn well done seacker..didn't see the one above....completely missed it muppet |
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30 May 10 - 06:50 PM (#2917405) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: GUEST,^&* GUESTnickr90 Teresa Brayton was from the Irish midlands - far from Wexford - but I know of no other Ferns in Ireland. |
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02 Jun 10 - 10:06 AM (#2918992) Subject: Lyr Add: THE OLD BOG ROAD (Teresa Brayton) From: Jim Dixon 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. |
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01 Apr 11 - 08:51 PM (#3126643) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: GUEST,seanm. 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. |
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02 Apr 11 - 02:51 AM (#3126739) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: MartinRyan Thanks, GUESTSeanm - I never knew that! Looks like you're right: Click here Regards |
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02 Apr 11 - 03:02 AM (#3126743) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: MartinRyan I see "Ferrans" in some online sets of lyrics, though many have "Ferns". Haven't seen original sheet music yet. Regards |
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02 Apr 11 - 03:12 AM (#3126744) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: MartinRyan 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 |
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02 Apr 11 - 08:25 AM (#3126848) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: GUEST,Desi C 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 crc778@aol.com |
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02 Apr 11 - 09:42 AM (#3126890) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: MartinRyan 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 |
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02 Apr 11 - 09:59 AM (#3126900) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: MartinRyan 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 |
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24 Jan 12 - 08:42 AM (#3295404) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: GUEST,Learaí na Láibe 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' |
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19 Mar 23 - 06:19 PM (#4167989) Subject: RE: Lyr Req: The Old Bog Road (Teresa Brayton) From: GUEST Ferrans Lock is an actual lock on the Royal Canal and is not a townland. A small matter. |