Songs from Ireland

[Faísca]

A little bit of heaven

Sure, a little bit o’ heaven fell from out of the sky one day,
And nestled on the ocean in a spot so far away;
And the angels found it, sure it looked so sweet and fair.
They said suppose we leave it, for it looks so peaceful there!
So they sprinkled it with star dust just to make the shamrocks grow;
‘Tis the only place you’ll find them,
No matter where you go;
Then they dotted it with silver,
To make its lakes so grand,
And when they had it finished,
Sure they called it IRELAND!

[Faísca]

A Nation Once Again

When boyhood’s fire was in my blood, I read of ancient freemen,
For Greece and Rome, who bravely stood, three hundred and three men.
And then I prayed I yet might see, our fetters rent in twain,
And Ireland’s long a province, be a nation once again.
Chorus: A Nation once again, A Nation once again,
And Ireland long a province, be a Nation once again.

And from that time through wildest woe, that hope has shone a far light;
Nor could love’s brightest summer glow outshine that solemn starlight.
It seemed to watch above my head, in forum, field and fane;
Its angel voice sang round my bed, ‘A nation once again.’

It whispered too that freedom’s ark, and service high and holy,
Would be profaned by feeling dark, and passions vain and lowly;
For freedom comes from God’s right hand, and needs a godly train;
And righteous men must make our land a nation once again.

So as I grew from boy to man, I bent me to that bidding -
My spirit of each selfish plan, and cruel passion ridding;
For thus, I hoped some day to aid - Oh, can such hope be vain?
When my dear country shall be made a nation once again.

[Faísca]

Avondale

Oh, have you been to Avondale,
And lingered in its lovely vale,
Where tall trees whisper and know the tale,
Of Avondale’s proud eagle.

Where pride and ancient glory fade,
So was the land where he was laid,
Like Christ was thirty pieces paid,
For Avondale’s proud eagle.

Long years that green and lovely vale,
Has nursed Parnell, her grandest Gael,
And curse the land that has betrayed
Fair Avondale’s proud eagle.

[Faísca]

Carrickfergus

I wish I was in Carrickfergus, only for nights in Ballygrant,
I would swim over the deepest ocean, only for nights in Ballygrant.
But the sea is wide and I can’t swim over, nor have I the wings to fly.
If I could find me a handsome boatsman, to ferry me over to my love and die.

Now in Kilkenny, it is reported, they’ve marble stones as black as ink,
With gold and silver I would transport her, but I’ll sing no more now ‘till I get a drink. I’m drunk today, but then I’m seldom sober, a handsome rover from town to town. Ah, but I’m sick now, my days are over, come all ye young lads and lay me down.

[Faísca]

Clancy Lowered the Boom

Now Clancy was a peaceful man, if you know what I mean.
The cops picked up the pieces after Clancy left the scene.
He never looked for trouble, that’s a fact you can assume.
But never-the-less, when trouble would press,
Clancy lowered the boom!

Oh, that Clancy! Oh, that Clancy!
Whenever they got his Irish up,
Clancy lowered the boom!

O’Leary was a fighting man, they all knew he was tough.
He strutted ‘round the neighbourhood, a-shootin’ off his guff.
He picked a fight with Clancy, then and there he sealed his doom.
Before you could shout “O’Leary, look out!”
Clancy lowered the boom!

Clancy left the barber shop with tonic on his hair,
He walked into the poolroom and he met O’Reilly there.
O’Reilly said “For goodness sakes, now do I smell perfume?”
Before you could stack your cue in the rack,
Clancy lowered the boom!

Mulrooney walked into the bar and ordered up a round.
He left his drink to telephone, and Clancy drank it down.
Mulrooney said “Who drunk me drink? I’ll lay him in his tomb!”
Before you could pat the top of your hat,
Clancy lowered the boom!

O’Houlihan delivered ice to Misses Clancy’s flat.
He’d always linger for a while, to talk of this and that.
One day he kissed her just as Clancy walked into the room.
Before you could say the time of day,
Clancy lowered the boom!

The neighbours all turned out for Kat O’Grady’s weddin’ night.
McDoogle said “Let’s have some fun - I think I’ll start a fight!”
He wrecked the hall, then kissed the bride and pulverised the groom
Then quick as a wink, before you could think,
Clancy lowered the boom!

[Faísca]

Cockles and Mussels

In Dublin’s fair city, where the girls are so pretty,
‘Twas there I first met My sweet Molly Malone.
She drove her wheel-barrow thro’ streets broad and narrow,
Crying “Cockles and Mussels, a-live, a-live o!”
A-live, alive-o! A-live, a-live o!
Crying “Cockles and Mussels, a-live, a-live o!”

She was a fishing-monger, and that was no wonder,
For so was her father and mother before.
They drove their wheel-barrows thro’ streets broad and narrow,
Crying “Cockles and Mussels, a-live, a-live o!”

She died of the fever, and nothing could save her,
And that was the end of sweet Molloy Malone.
But her ghost drives a barrow thro’ streets broad and narrow,
Crying “Cockles and Mussels” a-live, a-live o”.

[Faísca]

Do you want your Old Lobby Washed Down?

I’ve a nice little cot and a small bit of land and a place by the side of sea.
And I care about no one because I believe there’s nobody cares about me.
My peace is destroyed and I’m fairly annoyed, by a lassie who works in the town. She sighs ev’ry day as she passes the way, ‘do you want your old lobby washed down?’

Chorus: Do you want your old lobby washed down,
Con Shine, do you want your old lobby washed down?
She sighs ev’ry day as she passes the way -
‘Do you want your old lobby washed down?

The other day the old landlord came by for his rent -
I told him no money I had.
Besides ‘twasn’t fair to ask me to pay, the times were so awfully bad.
He felt discontent at not getting his rent, and he shook his big head in a frown.
Says he ‘I’ll take half.’ ‘But’ says I with a laugh
‘Do you want your old lobby washed down?’

Now the boys look so bashful when they go out courtin’s,
they seem to look so very shy.
As to kiss a young maid, sure they seem half afraid,
but they would if they could on the sly.
But me I do things in a different way, I don’t give a nod or a frown.
When I goes to court I says ‘Here goes for sport,
Do you want your old lobby washed down?’

[Faísca]

Easy and Slow

Twas down by Christchurch that I first met with Annie,
a neat little girl and not a bit shy.
She told me her father, who came from Dungannon,
would take her back home in the sweet by and by.

Chorus: And what’s it to any man whether or no,
whether I’m easy or whether I’m true,
As I lifted her petticoat easy and slow,
and I tied up my sleeves for to buckle her shoe.

And what’s it to any man whether or no,
whether I’m easy or whether I’m true,
As I lifted her petticoat easy and slow,
and I tied up my sleeves for to buckle her shoe.

We wandered by Thomas Street down to the Liffey,
the sunshine was gone and the evening grew dark
Along by Kingsbridge and begod in a jiffy,
me arms were around her beyond in the park.

From city or county a girl is a jewel,
and well made for gripping the most of them are.
But any young man he is really a fool,
if he triest at the first time to go a bit far.

Now if you should go to the town of Dungannon,
you can search till your eyes are weary or blind,
Be you lying of walking or sitting or running,
a girl like Annie, you never will find.

[Faísca]

Follow me up to Carlow

Lift Mac Cahir Og your face,
Brooding o’er the old disgrace,
That black Fitzwilliam stormed your place,
And drove you to the Fern.
Grey said victory was sure,
Soon the firebrand he’s secure;
Until he met at Glenmalure
Feach Mac Hugh O Byrne

Chorus: Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Feagh will do what Feagh will dare,
Now Fitzwilliam, have a care,
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halbert, out with sword,
On we go for by the Lord,
Feach MacHugh has given his word,
Follow me up to Carlow

See the swords of Glen Imayle,
Flashing o’er the English Pale,
See all the children of the Gael,
Beneath O’Byrne’s banners.
Rooster of the fighting stock,
Would you let a fighting cock,
Crow out upon an Irish rock,
Fly up and teach him manners.

From Tassagart to Clonmore,
Flows a stream of Saxon Gore,
Och, great is Rory Og O’More,
At sending looms to Hades.
White is sick and Lane is fled,
Now for black Fitzwilliam’s head,
We’ll send it over, dripping red,
To Liza and the ladies.

[Faísca]

Galway Bay

If you ever go across the sea to Ireland,
Then maybe at the closing of your day,
You will sit and watch the moon rise over Glodagh,
And see the sun go down on Galway Bay.

And if there’s to be a life hereafter,
And shoehow I’m sure there’s going to be,
I will ask my God to let me make my heaven,
In that dear land across the Irish sea.

Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream,
and the women in the meadows making hay,
to sit beside the turf fire in the cabin
and watch the barefoot gossams at their play.

For the breezes blowin’ o’er the sea from Ireland
are perfumed by the heather as they blow
And the women in the upland diggin’ tatties
speak a language that the strangers do not know.

For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way.
They scorned us just for bein’ what we are.
But they might as well go chasin’ after moon beams
Or light a penny candle from a star.

And if there’s to be a life hereafter,
And somehow I’m sure there’s going to be,
I will ask my God to let me make my heaven,
In that dear land across the Irish sea.

[Faísca]

I'll take you home again, Kathleen

I’ll take you home again, Kathleen, across the ocean wild and wide,
to where your heart has ever been, since you were first my bonnie bride.
The roses all have left your cheek, I’ve watched them fade away and die;
Your voice is sad whene’er you speak, and tears bedim your loving eyes.

Chorus: Oh! I will take you back, Kathleen, to where your heart will feel no pain,
and when the fields are fresh and green, I’ll take you to your home again.

I know you love me, Kathleen dear, your heart was ever fond and true.
I always feel when you are near, that life holds nothing dear, but you.
The smiles that once you gave to me, I scarcely ever see them now;
Though many, many times I see, a dark’ning shadow on your brow.

To that dear home beyond the sea, my Kathleen shall again return.
And when thy old friends welcome thee, thy loving heart will cease to yearn.
Where laughs the little silver stream, beside your mother’s humble cot,
and brightest rays of sunshine gleam, there all your grief will be forgot.

[Faísca]

My Wild Irish Rose

My Wild Irish Rose,
The sweetest flower that grows.
You may search everywhere,
But none can compare with my wild Irish Rose.

My Wild Irish Rose,
The dearest flower that grows.
And someday for my sake,
She may let me take,
The bloom from my wild Irish Rose.

[AlmaLusíada]

MIDI of one of my favourite Irish tunes, the "Londonderry Air".

[Milesian]

Originally Posted by AlmaLusíada

MIDI of one of my favourite Irish tunes, the "Londonderry Air".

That is the tune to what is now better known as "Danny Boy".
The words were written by an Englishman

The tune was recorded as "Londonderry Air" because it was obtained from a woman from that area (if you ar ethere call it by it's proper Irish name of "Derry" unless you want to lose your knee-caps )

The tune was likely a much older Gaelic tune which was originally a lament for a fallen O'Cathain chieftain from that area. What a great race that family was

The original words are supposedly as below:

A Chief's Lament



A chief far famed for liberal affluence,
For wise discretion and conducting sense,
Whom sages honour and learned commend,
The minstrels' patron, and the clergy's friend.

In his sad bower and damsel bands are pale,
And weep their chieftain and unwearied wail,
With lamentation oft renewed they mourn,
And know no joy, but hope for his return.

When Croghan's fate in battles fearful scale,
Hung trembling yet and their fair dames looked pale,
His arm rolled back the battle from afar,
Chief of valiant - Ulster's leading star.

With jewelled wealth and gay magnificence,
Whose bounteous tables heaped with princely hand,
Diffused a grateful odour o'er the land,
There met the brave, there came the poorest distrest,
And there the minstrel was an honoured guest.
O'Kane the brave, the generous to dispose,
Wealth to his friends - destruction to his foes,
Sword, fire and plunder followed where he trod,
And peace and mercy vanished at his nod.

[Milesian]

Spancil Hill

Last night as I lay dreaming, of the pleasant days gone by,
My mind being bent on rambling and to Erin's Isle I did fly.
I stepped on board a vision and sailed out with a will,
'Till I gladly came to anchor at the Cross of Spancilhill.

Enchanted by the novelty, delighted with the scenes,
Where in my early childhood, I often times have been.
I thought I heard a murmur, I think I hear it still,
'Tis that little stream of water at the Cross of Spancilhill.

And to amuse my fancy, I lay upon the ground,
Where all my school companions, in crowds assembled 'round.
Some have grown to manhood, while more their graves did fill,
Oh I thought we were all young again, at the Cross of Spancilhill.

It being on a Sabbath morning, I thought I heard a bell,
O'er hills and vallies sounded, in notes that seemed to tell,
That Father Dan was coming, his duty to fulfill,
At the parish church of Clooney, just one mile from Spancilhill.

And when our duty did commence, we all knelt down in prayer,
In hopes for to be ready, to climb the Golden Stair.
And when back home returning, we danced with right good will,
To Martin Moilens music, at the Cross of Spancilhill.

It being on the twenty third of June, the day before the fair,
Sure Erin's sons and daughters, they all assembled there.
The young, the old, the stout and the bold, they came to sport and kill,
What a curious combination, at the Fair of Spancilhill.

I went into my old home, as every stone can tell,
The old boreen was just the same, and the apple tree over the well,
I miss my sister Ellen, my brothers Pat and Bill,
Sure I only met my strange faces at my home in Spancilhill.

I called to see my neighbors, to hear what they might say,
The old were getting feeble, and the young ones turning grey.
I met with tailor Quigley, he's as brave as ever still,
Sure he always made my breeches when I lived in Spancilhill.

I paid a flying visit, to my first and only love,
She's as pure as any lilly, and as gentle as a dove.
She threw her arms around me, saying Mike I love you still,
She is Mack the Rangers daughter, the Pride of Spancilhill.

I thought I stooped to kiss her, as I did in days of yore,
Says she Mike you're only joking, as you often were before,
The cock crew on the roost again, he crew both loud and shrill,
And I awoke in California, far far from Spancilhill.

But when my vision faded, the tears came in my eyes,
In hope to see that dear old spot, some day before I die.
May the Joyous King of Angels, His Choicest Blessings spill,
On that Glorious spot of Nature, the Cross of Spancilhill.


The story behind the song - http://www.geocities.com/lorettapage/irish/span2.html