Wednesday, October 12, 2005

Kishmul's Galley

Kishmul was legendary pirate or "riever" who plied his trade in the 14th century on the north east coast of Scotland, among the Hebrides. In some stories he appears as a sort of sea-faring Robin Hood...stealing from the rich and giving to the poor. The Bennachie is a range of hills northeast of Aberdeen.


High on the Benachie
On that day of days, seaward I gaze
Watching Kishmul's Galley sailing

CHORUS
Ah-hee Ah-hoo-oh
Vall-eee Ah-hoo-oh

Bravely against wind and tide
They have brought us to 'neath Kishmul's walls
Kishmul's castle of ancient glory

CHORUS
Ah-hee Ah-hoo-oh
Vall-eee Ah-hoo-oh

Homeward she bravely battles,
'Gainst the hurtling waves,
Nor hoop nor yards,
Anchor, cable nor tackle has she.

CHORUS
Ah-hee Ah-hoo-oh
Vall-eee Ah-hoo-oh

Here's red wine, a toast to heroes
And harping too, and harping too
Watching Kishmul's galley sailing

CHORUS
Ah-hee Ah-hoo-oh
Vall-eee Ah-hoo-oh
The Mountains Of Mourne
Percy French


Oh Mary, this London's a wonderful sight,
With people here working by day and by night.
They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat
But there's gangs of them diggin' for gold in the street.
At least, when I asked them that's what I was told
So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold;
But for all that I've found there, I might as well be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies of London are dressed.
Well if you believe me, when asked to a ball
They don't wear no tops to their dresses at all.
Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not, in thrath
(truth)
Say if they were bound for a ball, or a bath,
Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary Machree,
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.


I've seen England's king from the top of a bus
And I've never known him, but he means to know us.
And tho' by the Saxon we once were oppressed,
Still I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest.
And now that he's visited Erin's green shore
We'll be much better friends than we've been heretofore
When we've got all we want, we're as quiet as can be
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.


You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course
Well now he is here at the head of the Force.
I met him today, I was crossing the Strand
And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand.
And there we stood talking of days that are gone
While the whole population of London looked on;
But for all these great powers, he's wishful, like me
To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.


There's beautiful girls here --- Oh, never you mind ---
With beautiful shapes nature never designed.
And lovely complexions all roses and cream,
But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same
That if at those roses you venture to sip
The colors might all come away on your lip
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

Thursday, October 06, 2005

All For Me Grog
words and music Traditional


Well it's all for me grog, me jolly jolly grog
It's all for me beer and tobacco
For I spent all me tin with the lassies drinking gin
Far across the western ocean I must wander

Where are me boots, me noggin', noggin' boots?
They're all gone for beer and tobacco
For the heels they are worn out and the toes are kicked about
And the soles are looking out for better weather

Where is me shirt, my noggin', noggin' shirt?
It's all gone for beer and tobacco
For the collar is all worn, and the sleeves they are all torn
And the tail is looking out for better weather

I'm sick in the head and I haven't been to bed
Since first I came ashore with me slumber
For I spent all me dough on the lassies movin' slow
Far across the Western Ocean I must wander

Where is me bed, me noggin' noggin bed
It's all gone for beer and tobacco
Well I lent it to a whore and now the sheets are all tore
And the springs are looking out for better whether.

Where is me wench, me noggin' noggin' whence
She's all gone for beer and tobacco
Well her (clap) is all worn out and her (clap) is knocked about
And her (clap) is looking out for better whether.

Sunday, October 02, 2005

THE SHAMROCK AND THE THISTLE
(Anon / Hamish Henderson)

Come all you true-born Glasgow boys
And listen to my song
I'm going to speak of Hogmanay
It won't detain you long
I've made this little tune for you
I've laid it on my whistle
And I think the name I'll gi'e to it
Is The Shamrock and the Thistle

Aboard the Royal Ulsterman
We had a dram or twa
When daylight broke we all awoke
And saw the Broomielaw
The journey o'er, we went ashore
Our friends all raised a cheer
And soon the word was going round
The Irishmen are here

We were not rash, we wore no sash
We sang no party lay
For we had come to join the fun
A real Scotch Hogmanay
We marched up to Argyle Street
Bought whisky, stout and rum
And the songs we sang were Sweet Strabane
And Britain Here We Come

A welcome rare we soon got there
It was a glorious fair
Bill Thompson cried, Get that inside
I see you're needing fare
So when we'd had a tightener
And feeling in good trim
Bill said, Come on, I'm for the Tron
So we went along wi' him

Many's the hoolie we've been at
At home across the sea
And at New Year wi' stout and beer
We'd go upon the spree
And the Scots they don't just make whoopee (?)
Or drink with Mum and Dad
At the thirty-first of December, boys
They all go ravin' mad

Forgive me, friends, for being rude
I'm not, you will agree
The Irish too are a crazy crew
Just look at Bob and me
For a Scotsman seeing the New Year in
Is a sight for gods and men
And it takes an Irish Paddy, boys
To be equal to him then

For the Scotsmen have their thistle
And the Welshmen have their leek
The English have a rose, my boys
And lots of flamin' cheek
The Irish have their shamrock and
They hold it very dear
But you'll find it wi' the thistle
In auld Glasgow at New Year
The Highwayman
Phil Ochs
(An arrangement of a poem by Alfred Noyes)



The wind was a torrent of darkness
Among the gusty trees
The moon was a ghostly galleon
Tossed upon cloudy seas
And the road was a ribbon of moonlight
Over the purple moor
And the highwayman came riding, riding, riding
Yes, the highwayman came riding
Up to the old inn door

Over the cobbles he clattered
And clashed in the darkened yard
And he tapped with his whip at the window
But all was locked and barred
So he whistled a tune to the window
And who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black eyed daughter
Bess the landlord's daughter
Plaiting a dark red love knot
Into her long black hair

One kiss, my bonny sweetheart
For I'm after a prize tonight
But I shall be back with the yellow gold
Before the morning light
Yet if they press me sharply
Harry me through the day
Oh, then look for me by moonlight
Watch for me by moonlight
And I'll come to thee by moonlight
Though Hell should bar the way

He did not come at the dawning
No, he did not come at the noon
And out of the tawny sunset
before the rise of the moon
When the road was a gypsy's ribbon
Looping the purple moor
Oh a redcoat troop came marching, marching, marching
King George's men came marching
Up to the old inn door

And they bound the landlord's daughter
with many a sniggering jest
And they bound the musket beside her
With the barrel beneath her breast
Now keep good watch and they kissed her
She heard the dead man say
"Oh look for me by moonlight
Watch for me by moonlight
And I'll come to thee by moonlight
Though Hell should bar the way"

Look for me by moonlight
Hoof beats ringing clear
Watch for me by moonlight
Were they deaf that they did not hear
For he rode on the gypsy highway
She breathed one final breath
Then her finger moved in the moonlight
Her musket shattered the moonlight
And it shattered her breast in the moonlight
And warned him with her death

Oh he turned; he spurred on to the west
He did not know who stood
Out with her black hair a flowing down
Drenched with her own red blood
Oh not 'til the dawn had he heard it
And his face grew gray to hear
How Bess the landlord's daughter
The landlord's black eyed daughter
Had watched for her love in the moonlight
And died in the darkness there

Back he spurred like a madman
Shrieking a curse to the sky
With the white road smoking behind him
And his rapier brandished high
Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon
Wine red his velvet coat
When they shot him down on the highway
Down like a dog on the highway
And he lay in his blood on the highway
With a bunch of lace at his throat

And still on a winter's night they say
When the wind is in the trees
When the moon is a ghostly galleon
Tossed upon cloudy seas
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight
Over the purple moor
Oh the highwayman comes riding, riding, riding
Yes the highwayman comes riding
Up to the old inn door.

Wednesday, September 21, 2005

Dawning Of The Day
unknown



1. Oh Caledonia, we are your sons
Restore us once again
From your dreams awake
And we will pledge to thee


2. We fished stormy waters when fish were a-plenty
We ploughed the wild heathland till it bloomed like a rose
We built the great ships that sailed all the oceans
We toiled underground nature's treasures exposed
We've travelled the world, we've known kings, we've known princes
Discoursed with scholars, reasoned with fools
Oh we've served with distinction all down through the ages
But still in our homeland the foreigner rules


Chorus:
O we'll fight for what is right and the dawning of the day
When we'll rise again to win our claim for Scottish destiny


3. We're fierce as the badger when danger is threat'ning
We've the cunning and the guile that the fox calls his own
We've the reason that guides our great streams in their coursing
We're as stubborn as the headland that stands all alone
We can laugh with the devil, no one can laugh louder
Weep with the willow when our heart's sorely pressed
We're as gently and prickly as our own downy thistle
We can work with the hardest and play with the best


Chorus


4. But our land it is owned by the faceless investor
Our fish and our farming no longer our own
Our industry's ruined, our assets are squandered
Our souls are in hock and our children in pawn
It's no use in thinking it's too late for changing
No use in thinking that it's not up to you
You can teach, you can learn and to change things be willing
For you are your country and your country is you


Chorus


5. Too long we have blamed the foreign oppressor
Too long we have hoped for our hero's return
We've raised all our banners in poem and in legend
We've rested on laurels that turned into thorns
To dwell on past glories at the cost of invention
Is to squander the gifts that our forefathers gave
So take strength from the past but declare your intention
To change this dear land back to Scotland the Brave


Chorus


6. Oh Caledonia, we are your sons
And will again be free

Saturday, September 17, 2005

Patriot Game
words and music by Dominic Behan



Come all ye young rebels, and list while I sing,
For the love of one's country is a terrible thing.
It banishes fear with the speed of a flame,
And it makes us all part of the patriot game.

My name is O'Hanlon, and I've just turned sixteen.
My home is in Monaghan, and where I was weaned
I learned all my life cruel England's to blame,
So now I am part of the patriot game.

This Ireland of ours has too long been half free.
Six counties lie under John Bull's tyranny.
But still De Valera is greatly to blame
For shirking his part in the Patriot game.

They told me how Connolly was shot in his chair,
His wounds from the fighting all bloody and bare.
His fine body twisted, all battered and lame
They soon made me part of the patriot game.

It's nearly two years since I wandered away
With the local battalion of the bold IRA,
For I read of our heroes, and wanted the same
To play out my part in the patriot game.

I don't mind a bit if I shoot down police
They are lackeys for war never guardians of peace
And yet at deserters I'm never let aim
The rebels who sold out the patriot game

And now as I lie here, my body all holes
I think of those traitors who bargained in souls
And I wish that my rifle had given the same
To those Quislings who sold out the patriot game.

Monday, September 12, 2005

Old Dun Cow
words and music traditional



Some friends and I in a public house
Was playing a game of chance one night
When into the pub a fireman ran
His face all a chalky white.
"What's up", says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost,
Or have you seen your Aunt Mariah?"
"Me Aunt Mariah be buggered!", says he,
"The bleedin' pub's on fire!"

And there was Brown upside down
Lappin'' up the whiskey on the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried
As they came knockin' on the door (clap clap)
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
And somebody shouted MacIntyre! MACINTYRE!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.

"Oh well," says Brown, "What a bit of luck.
Everybody follow me.
And it's down to the cellar
If the fire's not there
Then we'll have a grand old spree."
So we went on down after good old Brown
The booze we could not miss
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were quite pissed.

Then, Smith walked over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks (clap clap)
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on, " says Brown, "that ain't allowed
Ya cannot do that thing here.
Don't go washin' trousers in the port wine tub
When we got Guinness beer."

Then there came from the old back door
The Vicar of the local church.
And when he saw our drunken ways,
He began to scream and curse.
"Ah, you drunken sods! You heathen clods!
You've taken to a drunken spree!
You drank up all the Benedictine wine
And you didn't save a drop for me!"

And then there came a mighty crash
Half the bloody roof caved in.
We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
But still we were gonna stay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And we nailed ourselves inside
And we sat drinking the finest Rum
Till we were bleary-eyed.

Later that night, when the fire was out
We came up from the cellar below.
Our pub was burned. Our booze was drunk.
Our heads was hanging low.
"Oh look", says Brown with a look quite queer.
Seems something raised his ire.
"Now we gotta get down to Murphy's Pub,
It closes on the hour!"

Wednesday, September 07, 2005

By the Rising of the Moon
words by J.K. Casey, music Turlough O'Carolan


And come tell me Sean O'Farrell tell me why you hurry so
Husha buachaill hush and listen and his cheeks were all a glow
I bare orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be
At the old spot by the river quite well known to you and me
One more word for signal token whistle out the marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night
Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed warning light
Murmurs rang along the valleys to the banshees lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen
High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green
Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon

'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon

Monday, September 05, 2005

Are You Sleeping Maggie

words and music by Robert Tannahill



Dark and rainy is the night,
There's no a star in a' the carry;
Lightnings gleam athwart the lift,
And the cauld winds drive wi' winter's fury.

O! are ye sleepin', Maggie?
O! are ye sleepin', Maggie?
Let me in, for loud the linn
Is roarin' o'er the warlock craigie!

Fearfu' soughs the boortree bank,
The rifted wood roars wild and drearie,
Loud the iron yett does clank,
And the cry o' howlets makes me eerie.

Aboon my breath I daurna speak
For fear I rouse your waukrife daddie;
Cauld's the blast upon my cheek, -
Arise, arise, my bonnie lady!

She op'd the door, she let him in;
He coost aside his dreepin' plaidie;
Blaw your warst, ye rain and win',
Since, Maggie, now I'm in aside ye.

Now since ye're waukin', Maggie,
Now since ye're waukin', Maggie,
What care I for howlet's cry,
For boortree bank, or warlock craigie?

Sunday, September 04, 2005

The Bridge (A Lover's Apology)
words and music by Marc Gunn

Was it something I said that made you angry with me.
Made you dig a deep river to keep you from me.
Oh, the water is rushing, come to sweep me away
'Less I die of sorrow, I will cross it today.

I would build me a bridge a hundred meters long
To see the other side of what I did wrong
Well you say you don't hate me, but I guess that I'm scared
That with a river between us, you'll no longer care.

I would build a boat, and paddle agaist all sorrow.
And if I sail down the river, then I'll be back again tomorrow.
I would face cold death, run and leap to your side.
And if I fall in the river, I'll be warmed by your sight.

I would beg your forgiveness for the pain I've fed
And I'd find the source of the river you've bled.
Then I'd close the gates of the dam I built there.
And never again will you have anything to fear.

Well I never knew that your tears ran so deep.
But when I'ved dammed those tears, I will kiss your sweet cheek.
I will hold you close 'till your tears finally cease.
And I'll sing you a lullaby to bring you peace.

Saturday, September 03, 2005

Scotland the Brave
(this is the actual National anthem of Scotland. "Flower of Scotland" is the "unofficial National anthem of Scotland")



Hark when the night is falling
Hear the pipes are calling .
Loudly and proudly calling
Down thro’ the glen
There where the hills are sleeping
Now feel the blood a-leaping
High as the spirits of the old highland men

Towering in gallant frame
Scotland my mountain hame
High may your proud standards glouriously wave
Land of my high endeavour
Land ofthe shining river
Land of my heart forever
Scotland the brave

High on the misty Highlands
Out by the purple islands
Brave are the hearts that beat
Beneath Scottish skies
Wild are the winds that meet you
Staunch are the friends that greet you
Kind as the love that shines from fair maidens eyes

Towering in gallant frame etc.
Far off in sunlit places
Sad are the Scottish faces
Yearning to feel the kiss
Of sweet Scottish rain
Where tropic skies are beaming
Love sets the heart a-dreaming
Longing and dreaming for the homeland again.

Friday, September 02, 2005

The Darlin' Girl From Clare
Percy French




We were sitting on the wall upon a Sunday
To watch the girls go by
And thinkin' we'd be marrit to one one day,
When Kate Flynn caught our eye.
Oh, man, she had the makin's of a fairy
And it made each boy'o swear!
There's not one girl in the wide wide world
Like the girl from County Clare.

And every man had got the finest plan
Ye ever see now - barrin' me now.
Ev'ry day there's one of them would say
That she'll agree now - you'll see now.
All night they'd fight as to which o' them was right
In the colour of her eyes and hair;
But not a word from me was ever heard
About the Darling Girl from Clare.

I never said a single word about her
But I met the girl that day,
I told her I could never live without her,
An' what had she to say?
She said that I should go and see her father,
I met him then and there,
An' in less than an hour we were fightin' for the dower
Of the Darling Girl from Clare!

So every man had got the finest plan
Ye ever see now - barrin' me now,
Ev'ry day there's one of them would say
That she'll agree now - you'll see now.
But late last night when the moon was bright,
I axed her if she'd share
Me joy an' me sorra' an' begorra! On tomorra'
I'll be married to the Girl from Clare!

Thursday, September 01, 2005

Danny Boy



Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen and down the mountain side
The summer’s gone, and all the roses falling
It’s you, it’s you must go and I must bide

But come ye back when summer’s in the meadow
Or when the valley’s hushed and white with snow
It’s I’ll be here in sunshine, or in shadow
Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so

But when ye come and all the flowers are dying
If I am dead, and dead I well may be
You’ll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an ave there for me

And I shall hear tho’ soft you tread above me
And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be
For you will bend and tell me that you love me
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me

Wednesday, August 31, 2005

Red Red Rose

This song, written by Robert Burns, is said to be the greatest love-song
ever composed.



Oh, my love is like a red, red rose,
that's newly sprung in June.
Oh, my love is like a melody
that's sweetly play'd in tune.

As fair thou art, my bonnie love,
so deep in love am I.
And I will love thee still, my dear,
till a' the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
till a' the seas gang dry.
And I will love thee still, my dear,
till a'the seas gang dry.

Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear,
and the rocks melt wi' the sun.
And I will love thee still, my dear,
while the sands o' life shall run.

But fare thee weel, my only love,
and fare thee weel a while;
and I will come again, my love,
tho' 'twere ten thousand mile.

Tuesday, August 30, 2005

The Rattling Bog



There was a bog, a rattling bog.
A rare bog and a rattling bog.
And the bog down in the valley - o.

Ho - ro, the rattling bog, the bog down in the valley - o.
Rare bog, the rattling bog, the bog down in the valley - o.

Now in this bog there was a tree.
A rare tree, a rattling tree.
Tree in the bog ...... and the bog down in the valley - o.

And on this tree there was a limb.
A rare limb, a rattling limb.
Limb on the tree,
and the tree in the bog ...... and the bog down in the valley - o.

And on this limb there was a branch ......
And on this branch there was a twig ......
And on this twig there was a leaf ......
And on this leaf there was a nest ......
And in this nest there was an egg ......

Monday, August 29, 2005

Mush-Mush-Mush Tural-i-addy
words and music by Sean O'Casey and Dennis O'Casey

This video is from the movie, "The Quiet Man" and is only part of the actual song. I could not find the whole song on youtube.




Oh ‘twas there I learned readin' and writin',
At Bill Bracket's where I went to school,
And ‘twas there I learned howlin' and fightin'
From my schoolmaster Mr. O'Toole.
Him and me, we had many-a scrimmage,
And the devil a copy I wrote.
There was ne'er a garson in the village
Dared tread on the tail of me
Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-addy
Singin' Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-ay.
There was ne'er a garson in the village
Dared tread on the tail of me coat.

Oh ‘twas there I learned all of my courtin' --
Many lessons I took up in the art --
Till Cupid, the blackguard, in sportin',
An arrow drove straight through me heart.
Molly Connor she lived right forinst me,
And tender lines to her I wrote.
If you dare say one hard word against her,
I'll tread on the tail of your
Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-addy
Singin' Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-ay.
If you dare say one hard word against her,
I'll tread on the tail of your coat.

But a blackguard called Mickey Maloney
Came and stole her affections away.
He had money and I hadn't any,
So I sent him a challenge next day.
That evenin' we met by the woodbine.
The Shannon we crossed in a boat,
And I lathered him with me shillelagh
For he trod on the tail of me
Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-addy
Singin' Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-ay.
And I lathered him with me shillelagh
For he trod on the tail of me coat.

Oh me fame went abroad through the nations,
And folks came a flockin' to see.
And they cried out without hesitation,
"You're a fightin' man Billy McGhee."
I cleaned out the Finegan's faction,
And I licked all the Murphy's afloat.
If you're in for a row or a ruction,
Just tread on the tail of me
Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-addy
Singin' Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-ay.
If you're in for a row or a ruction,
Just tread on the tail of me coat.

There are several good reasons for drinkin',
And another one enters me head:
If a fellow can't drink when he's livin'
How the hell can he drink when he's dead?
Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-addy
Singin' Mush, Mush, Mush tural-i-ay.
If a fellow can't drink when he's livin',
How the hell can he drink when he's dead?

Sunday, August 28, 2005

FINNEGAN'S WAKE




Tim Finnegan lived in Walkin Street
A gentle Irishman, mighty odd
He'd a beautiful brogue so rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod
You see he'd a sort of the tipp' lin' way
With the love of the liquor, poor Tim was born
And to help him on with his work each day
He'd a drop of the craythur every morn

Chorus:
Whack fol the da, now, dance to your partner
Welt the floor your trotters shake
Wasn't it the truth I tell you
Lots of fun at Finnegan's wake

One mornin' Tim was rather full
His head felt heavy, which made him shake
He fell from the ladder and he broke his skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed
With a gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head

His friends assembled at the wake
And Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch
Biddy O'Brien began to cry
"Such a nice clean corpse did you ever see?
Tim Mavourneen why did you die?"
"Arrah hold your gob" said Paddy McGee

Then Maggie O'Connor took up the job
"O Biddy," says she "you're wrong I'm sure"
Biddy gave her a belt in the gob
And left her sprawling on the floor
Then the war did soon engage
It was woman to woman and man to man
Shillelagh law was all the rage
And a row and a ruction soon began

Then Mickey Maloney raised his head
When a bucket of whiskey flew at him
It missed and falling on the bed
The liquor scattered over Tim
Tim revives, see how he rises
Timothy rising from the bed
Said "Whirl your whiskey around like blazes
Thundering Jesus, do you think I'm dead?"

Saturday, August 27, 2005

Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms




Believe me, if all those endearing young charms
Which I gaze on so fondly today
Were to change by tomorrow and fleet in my arms
Like fairy gifts fading away.
Thou wouldst still be adored as this moment thou art
Let thy loveliness fade as it will
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.


It is not while beauty and youth are thine own
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear
That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known
To which time will but make thee more dear.
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets
But as truly loves on to the close
As the sunflower turns to her God when he sets
The same look which she turned when she rose.

Friday, August 26, 2005

FAREWELL TO NOVA SCOTIA



Chorus:
Farewell to Nova Scotia, you seabound coast
Let your mountains dark and dreary be
For when I am far away on the brimy ocean tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?

The sun was setting in the west
The birds were singing on every tree
All nature seemed inclined for to rest
But still there was no rest for me

I grieve to leave my native land
I grieve to leave my comrades all
And my parents, whom I held so dear
And my bonny, bonny lassie that I loved so well

The drums do beat and the wars do alarm
My captain calls, I must obey
So farewell, farewell to Nova Scotia's charm
For it's early in the morning, I'll be far, far away

I have three brothers and they are at rest
Their arms are folded on their breasts
But a poor and simple sailor just like me
Must be tossed and driven on the dark, blue sea



- Traditional
The Minstrel Boy
Thomas Moore



The minstrel boy to the war is gone
In the ranks of death you will find him
His father's sword he hath girded on
And his wild harp slung behind him

"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard
"Though all the world betrays thee
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"

The Minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain
Could not bring that proud soul under
The harp he lov'd ne'er spoke again
For he tore its chords asunder

And said "No chains shall sully thee
Thou soul of love and bravery!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery!"

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

The Scotsman




Well a Scotsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair
And one could tell by how he walked the he'd drunk more than his share
He fumbled 'round until he could no long keep his feet
And he stumbled off in to the grass to sleep beside the street

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
He stumbled off in to the grass to sleep beside the street

About the time two young and lovely girls just happened by
One says to the other, with a twinkle in her eye
"See yon sleeping Scotsman, so strong a handsome built
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt"

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt

They krept up on the sleeping Scotsman quiet as could be
They lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see
And there, behold, for them to view beneath his Scottish skirt
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth

They marveled for a moment, then one said "We must be gone.
Let's leave a present for our friend before we move along"
As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon tied in to a bow
Around the bonnie star the Scot's kilt did lift and show

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
Around the bonnie star the scots kilt did lift and show

Now the Scotsman woke to natures call and stumbled for the trees
Behind the bush he lifts his kilt, and gawks at what he sees
And in a startled voice he says, to what's before his eyes,
"Lad, I don't know where you've been, but I see you've won first prize"

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
Lad, I don't know where you've been, but I see you've won first prize

Tuesday, August 23, 2005

The Wearin' o' the green



"O Paddy dear, and did ye hear the news that's goin' round?
The shamrock is by law forbid to grow on Irish ground!
No more Saint Patrick's Day we'll keep, his color can't be seen
For there's a cruel law ag'in the Wearin' o' the Green."

I met with Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand,
And he said, "How's poor ould Ireland, and how does she stand?"
"She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen,
For they're hanging men and women there for the Wearin' o' the Green."

"So if the color we must wear be England's cruel red
Let it remind us of the blood that Irishmen have shed;
And pull the shamrock from your hat, and throw it on the sod
But never fear, 'twill take root there, though underfoot 'tis trod.
When laws can stop the blades of grass from growin' as they grow
And when the leaves in summer-time their color dare not show,
Then I will change the color too I wear in my caubeen;
But till that day, please God, I'll stick to the Wearin' o' the Green."

"I've heard a whisper of a land that lies beyond the wave,
where rich and poor stand equal in the light of freedom's day.
Oh Erin must we leave you, driven by a tyrant's hand,
To seek a mother's blessing in a strange and distant land
Where the cruel cross of England shall never more be seen,
And where please God I'll live and die still wearin' of the green."
The Scottish Soldier



There was a soldier, a Scottish soldier
Who wandered far away and soldiered far away
There was none bolder, with good broad shoulder
He's fought in many a fray, and fought and won.
He'd seen the glory and told the story
Of battles glorious and deeds neforious
But now he's sighing, his heart is crying
To leave these green hills of Tyrol.
Because these green hills are not highland hills
Or the island hills, the're not my land's hills
And fair as these green foreign hills may be
They are not the hills of home.

And now this soldier, this Scottish soldier
Who wandered far away and soldiered far away
Sees leaves are falling and death is calling
And he will fade away, in that far land.
He called his piper, his trusty piper
And bade him sound a lay... a pibroch sad to play
Upon a hillside, a Scottish hillside
Not on these green hills of Tyrol.

And so this soldier, this Scottish soldier
Will wander far no more and soldier far no more
And on a hillside, a Scottish hillside
You'll see a piper play his soldier home.
He'd seen the glory, he'd told his story
Of battles glorious and deeds victorious
The bugles cease now, he is at peace now
Far from those green hills of Tyrol

Monday, August 22, 2005

Donald, Where's Your Trousers?



I just got in frae the Isle of Skye
I'm not very big and I'm awfully shy
The ladies shout as I go by
"Donald where's your trousers?"

Chorus
Let the winds blow high,
Let the winds blow low,
Down the street in m' kilt I go
And all the ladies say "Hello
Donald where's your trousers?"

A lady took me to a ball
And it was slippery in the hall
I was afraid that I might fall
'Cause I had nae on me trousers!
Chorus

They'd like to wed me everyone
Just let them catch me if they can
You canna put the breeks on a highland man
Who doesn't like wearing trousers.
Chorus

To wear the kilt is my delight,
It isn't wrong, I know it's right.
The highlanders would get afright
If they saw me in trousers.
Chorus

Well I caught a cold and me nose was raw
I had no handkerchief at all
So I hiked up my kilt and I gave it a blow,
Now you can't do that with trousers.
Chorus

Sunday, August 21, 2005

The Town I Loved So Well
Phil Coulter



In my memory I will always see
the town that I have loved so well
Where our school played ball by the gasyard wall
and we laughed through the smoke and the smell
Going home in the rain, running up the dark lane
past the jail and down behind the fountain
Those were happy days in so many, many ways
in the town I loved so well

In the early morning the shirt factory horn
called women from Creggan, the Moor and the Bog
While the men on the dole played a mother's role,
fed the children and then trained the dogs
And when times got tough there was just about enough
But they saw it through without complaining
For deep inside was a burning pride
in the town I loved so well

There was music there in the Derry air
like a language that we all could understand
I remember the day when I earned my first pay
And I played in a small pick-up band
There I spent my youth and to tell you the truth
I was sad to leave it all behind me
For I learned about life and I'd found a wife
in the town I loved so well

But when I returned how my eyes have burned
to see how a town could be brought to its knees
By the armoured cars and the bombed out bars
and the gas that hangs on to every tree
Now the army's installed by that old gasyard wall
and the damned barbed wire gets higher and higher
With their tanks and their guns, oh my God, what have they done
to the town I loved so well

Now the music's gone but they carry on
For their spirit's been bruised, never broken
They will not forget but their hearts are set
on tomorrow and peace once again
For what's done is done and what's won is won
and what's lost is lost and gone forever
I can only pray for a bright, brand new day
in the town I loved so well

Saturday, August 20, 2005

Irish Republican Jail Song



In Ireland's fight for freedom boys, the north has played its part
Though freedom's day has yet to dawn, we've never yet lost heart!
We'll fight it out until the end - we'll fight for we cannot fail,
We know we'll win, although they have our lads in Crumlin jail.

We gave to Erin Eoin Rowe, we gave her Shane O'Neill,
And Tone and Cavehilll made a vow that England still can fail.
Joe McKelvey did not die in vain; he was our northern Gael,
And that's another reason why they keep our lads in Crumlin jail.

So keep on the fight, you volunteers, for God is on our side.
No jail can break our brave young men, no prison clamp their pride.
For England knows, and England fears, our fearless northern gales;
And that's another reason why we'll free our lads from Crumlin jail.

For England knows, and England fears, the famous northern Gaels;
And that's another reason why we'll free our lads from Crumlin jail.

Friday, August 19, 2005

The Auld Triangle
Brendan Behan



A hungry feeling, came o'er me stealing
And the mice they were squealing in my prison cell
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

Oh to start the morning, the warden bawling
Get up out of bed you, and clean out your cell
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

Oh the screw was peeping and the lag was sleeping
As he lay weeping for his girl Sal
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

On a fine spring evening, the lag lay dreaming
And the seagulls were wheeling high above the wall
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

Oh the wind was sighing, and the day was dying
As the lag lay crying in his prision cell
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

In the female prison there are seventy women
And I wish it was with them that I did dwell
And that auld triangle, went jingle jangle
All along the banks of the Royal Canal

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

The Bonnie Ship the Diamond



The Diamond is a ship me lads,
For the Davis Straits she's bound
And the Quay it is all garnished
With bonnie lassies round
Captain Thompson gives the order
To sail the ocean wide
Where the sun it never sets me lads
Nor darkness dims the sky.

Chorus:
And it's cheer up, me lads
Let your hearts never fail,
For the bonnie ship The Diamond
Goes a-fishing for the whale

Along the quay at Peterhead
The lassies stand around
Wi' their shawls all pulled about them
And the salt tears runnin' down
Oh don't you weep, my bonnie lass,
Though you be left behind
For the rose will grow on Greenland's ice
Before we change our mind.

Here's a health to The Resolution,
Likewise the Eliza Swan
Here's a health to the Battler of Montrose
And The Diamond ship of fame
We wear the trousers of the white
And the jackets of the blue
When we return to Peterhead,
We'll hae sweethearts enoo.

It'll be bright both day and night
When the Greenland lads come hame
Wi' a ship that's fu' o' oil me lads
And money to our name
We'll make the cradles for to rock
And the blankets for to tear
And every lass in Peterhead
Sing hushabye my dear!

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

Will ye go lassie go?



Oh the Summer time is coming
And the trees are sweetly blooming
And the wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather
Will ye go lassie go........
And we'll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
From around the blooming heather
Will ye go lassie go
.
I will build my love a bower
Near yon pure crystal fountain
And on it I will pile
All the flowers of the mountain
Will ye go lassie go............
And we'll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
From around the blooming heather
Will ye go lassie go
.
If my true love she were gone
I will surely find no other
Where wild mountain thyme
All around the blooming heather
Will ye go lassie go...........
And we'll all go together
To pull wild mountain thyme
From around the blooming heather
Will ye go lassie go

Monday, August 15, 2005

Auld Lang Syne
Robert Burns



Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Sould auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

And surely ye'll be your pint stowp
And surely I'll be mine
And we'll tak a cup o'kindness yet
For auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

We twa hae run about the braes
And pou'd the gowans fine
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit
Sin' auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

We twa hae paidl'd in the burn
Frae morning sun till dine
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

And there's a hand, my trusty fiere
And gie's a hand o' thine
And we'll tak a right gude-willie waught
For auld lang syne

For auld lang syne, my dear
For auld lang syne
We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne

Sunday, August 14, 2005

The Bluebells Of Scotland



Oh where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
Oh where, tell me where, is your Highland laddie gone?
He's gone wi' streaming banners where noble deeds are done,
And it's oh, in my heart I wish him safe at home.

Oh where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie dwell?
Oh where, tell me where, did your Highland laddie dwell?
He dwelt in Bonnie Scotland, where blooms the sweet blue bell,
And it's oh, in my heart I lo'ed my laddie well.

Oh what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
Oh what, tell me what, does your Highland laddie wear?
A bonnet o' the Saxon green, and on his breast a plaid,
And it's oh, in my heart I lo'ed my Highland lad.

Oh what, tell me what, if your Highland laddie is slain?
Oh what, tell me what, if your Highland laddie is slain?
Oh no, true love will be his guard and bring him safe again,
For it's oh, my heart would break if my Highland lad were slain.

Saturday, August 13, 2005

Tibbie Dunbar
(Robert Burns)




O, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
O, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car,
Or walk by my side, O sweet Tibbie Dunbar?

I care na thy daddie, his lands and his money;
I care na thy kin, sae high and sae lordly;
But sae that thou'lt hae me for better or waur,
And come in thy coatie, sweet Tibbie Dunbar,

O, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
O, wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car,
Or walk by my side, O sweet Tibbie Dunbar?

Friday, August 12, 2005

Ye Jacobites By Name
Robert Burns




Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name yer faults I will proclaim
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear, you will hear
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear

Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name yer faults I will proclaim
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear, you will hear
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear

What is right, what is wrong, by the law, by the law
What is right and what is wrong by the law
What is right, what is wrong, the weak airm and the strong
The short sword and the long for to draw, for to draw
The short sword and the long for to draw

Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name yer faults I will proclaim
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear, you will hear
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear

What makes heroic strife famed afar, famed afar
What makes heroic strife famed afar
What makes heroic strife, to whet the assassin's knife
And haunt a parent's life wi bloody war, bloody war
And haunt a parent's life wi bloody war

Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name yer faults I will proclaim
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear, you will hear
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear

So let yer schemes alone in the State, in the State
Let yer schemes alone in the State
Let yer schemes alone, adore the Rising Sun
And leave a man undone to his fate, to his fate
And leave a man undone to his fate

Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name yer faults I will proclaim
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear, you will hear
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear

Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear, lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear
Ye Jacobites by name yer faults I will proclaim
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear, you will hear
Yer doctrines I maun blame, you will hear

Thursday, August 11, 2005

The Wee Cooper O'Fife



There was a wee cooper lived in Fife
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
And he has tae'n a gentle wife
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

2. She wouldna card and she wouldna spin
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
For shamin' o'her gentle kin
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

3. She wouldna bake and she wouldna brew
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
For spoilin' of her gentle hue
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

4. She called him a dirty Hieland whelp
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
If you want yer dinner go get it yourself
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

5. The cooper's awa tae his wool-pack
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
And lain a sheepskin across her back
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

6. I'll no thrash you for your gentle kin
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
But I will thrash my ain sheep-skin
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

7. He's laid the sheepskin across her back
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
And with a good stick he went whickety-whack
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

8. Oh I will card and I will spin
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
And think nae mair of my gentle kin!
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

9. She drew the table and spread the board
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
And "My dear husband" was every word
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

10. All you who have gotten a gentle wife
Nickety nackety noo, noo. noo
Just send ye for the cooper of Fife!
Risselty-rosselty, hey, pomposity
Nickety nackety noo, noo, noo.

Wednesday, August 10, 2005

Last Night I Had The Strangest Dream
words and music by Ed McCurdy



I first heard this song being sung by The Corries, a Scottish folk band. Apparently it's not a Scottish song, but since the Corries recorded it, I have included it here. this is their version.

Last night I had the strangest dream
I'd ever dreamed before
I dreamed the world had all agreed
To put an end to war

I dreamed I saw a mighty room
Filled with women and men
And the paper they were signing said
They'd never fight again

And when the paper was all signed
And a million copies made
They all joined hands and bowed their heads
And grateful pray'rs were prayed

And the people in the streets below
Were dancing 'round and 'round
While swords and guns and uniforms
Were scattered on the ground

Last night I had the strangest dream
I'd never dreamed before
I dreamed the world had all agreed
To put an end to war.

Tuesday, August 09, 2005

Grace

Unknown



As we gather in the chapel here in old Kilmainham Jaill
I think about these past few weeks, oh will they say we've failed?
From our school days they have told us we must yearn for liberty
Yet all I want in this dark place is to have you here with me

Oh Grace just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger
They'll take me out at dawn and I will die
With all my love I place this wedding ring upon your finger
There won't be time to share our love for we must say goodbye

Now I know it's hard for you my love to ever understand
The love I shared for these brave men, the love for my dear land
But when glory called me to his side down in the GPO
I had to leave my own sick bed, to him I had to go

Oh, Grace just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger
They'll take me out at dawn and I will die
With all my love I'll place this wedding ring upon your finger
There won't be time to share our love for we must say goodbye

Now as the dawn is breaking, my heart is breaking too
On this May morn as I walk out, my thoughts will be of you
And I'll write some words upon the wall so everyone will know
I loved so much that I could see his blood upon the rose.

Oh, Grace just hold me in your arms and let this moment linger
They'll take me out at dawn and I will die
With all my love I'll place this wedding ring upon your finger
There won't be time to share our love for we must say goodbye
For we must say goodbye

Monday, August 08, 2005

BOOLAVOGUE



At Boolavogue, as the sun was setting
O'er the bright May meadows of Shelmalier,
A rebel hand set the heather blazing
And brought the neighbours from far and near.
Then Father Murphy, from old Kilcormack,
Spurred up the rocks with a warning cry;
"Arm! Arm!" he cried, "for I've come to lead you,
For Ireland's freedom we fight or die."

He led us on 'gainst the coming soldiers,
And the cowardly Yeomen we put to flight;
'Twas at the Harrow the boys of Wexford
Showed Bookey's Regiment how men could fight
Look out for hirelings, King George of England,
Search ev'ry kingdom where breathes a slave,
For Father Murphy of the County Wexford
Sweeps o'er the land like a mighty wave.

We took Camolin and Enniscorthy,
And Wexford storming drove out our foes;
'Twas at Sliabh Coillte our pikes were reeking
With the crimson stream of the beaten Yeos.
At Tubberneering and Ballyellis
Full many a Hessian lay in his gore;
Ah, Father Murphy, had aid come over
The green flag floated from shore to shore!

At Vinegar Hill, o'er the pleasant Slaney,
Our heroes vainly stood back to back,
And the Yeos at Tullow took Father Murphy
And burned his body upon the rack.
God grant you glory, brave Father Murphy
And open heaven to all your men;
The cause that called you may call tomorrow
In another fight for the Green again.



Father John Murphy of Boolavogue (in Wexford) led his parishioners in routing the Camolin Cavalry on May 26, 1798. The Wexford insurgents were eventually defeated at Vinegar Hill on June 21. Father Murphy and the other rebel leaders were hanged.

Sunday, August 07, 2005

Derwentwater's Farewell

John Renfro Davis

James Radcliffe, 3rd Earl of Derwentwater 1689-1716 is the subject of this ballad. Derwentwater was the son of one of Charles II's illegitimate children. He was brought up at the Palace of St. Germains as a companion to the Prince of Wales (later King James III). In 1715 he joined the Earl of Mar in the Jacobite Uprising. He was extremely popular and at the Battle of Preston argued for fighting the way out rather than surrender. However, Foster surrendered and Derwentwater was among those taken prisoner on November 14, 1715. Parliament found him guilty of treason and sentenced him to death. He was 27 when he was executed. His estate went first to the crown, which later granted it to Greenwich Hospital.

It is said that Derwentwater's wife was staying at their home on Derwentwater Lake when she heard the news. Rather than allow her possessions to be confiscated, she threw her jewels in the lake.

Legend has it that the stream that flows past his home at Dilston Hall ran red every year on the date of his execution. The Northern Lights were so brilliant on the day of his death that they were called Lord Derwentwater's Lights in the North for many years. It is also said they first appeared the day of Derwentwater's death.




Farewell to pleasant Dilston,
My father's ancient seat,
A stranger must now call thee his,
Which gars my heart to greet;
Farewell each friendly well known face
My heart has held so dear,
My tenants now must leave their lands,
Or hold their lives in fear.

No more along the banks of Tyne
I'll rove in autumn grey,
No more I'll hear at early dawn
The lav'rocks wake the day;
And who shall deck the hawthorn bower
Where my fond children strayed?
And who, when spring shall bid it flower,
Shall sit beneath the shade?

And fare thee well, George Collingwood,
Since fate has put us down,
If thou and I have lost our lives,
Our King has lost his crown;
But when the head that wears the crown
Shall be laid low like mine,
Some honest hearts may then lament
For Radcliffe's fallen line.

Farewell, farewell, my lady dear,
Ill, ill, thou councell'dst me,
I never more may see the babe
That smiles at your knee;
Then fare ye well brave Widdrington
And Foster ever true;
Dear Shaftsbury and Errington
Receive my last adieu.

And fare thee well my bonny grey steed
That carried me aye so free,
I wish I'd been asleep in my bed
Last time I mounted thee;
The warning bell now bids me cease,
My trouble's nearly oer,
Yon sun that rises from the sea
Shall rise on me no more.

And when the head that wears a crown
Shall be laid low like mine,
Some honest hearts may then lament
For Radcliffe's fallen line
Farewell to pleasant Dilston hall
My father's ancient seat
A stranger now must call thee his,
Which gars my heart to greet.

Saturday, August 06, 2005

The Isle Of Skye
(James Hogg)



There are twa bonnie maidens, and three bonnie maidens
Come owre the Minch, come owre the main
With the wind for their way and the corry for their hame
They are dearly welcome back to Skye once again

Come along, come along wi' your boatie and your song
My ain bonnie maids, my twa bonnie maids
For the night it is dark, the Redcoat is gone
And ye are dearly welcome back to Skye once again

There is Flora, my honey, sae dear, sae bonnie
And ane, that's sae tall, sae handsome and all
Put the one for my king and the other for my queen
They are dearly welcome back to Skye once again

Come along, come along wi' your boatie and your song
My ain bonnie maids, my twa bonnie maids
For the Lady Macoulain, she dwelleth all her lane
And ye are dearly welcome back to Skye once again

Her arm it is long, her petticoat strong
My ain bonnie maids, my twa bonnie maids
The sea moullit's nest I will watch o'er the main
And ye are dearly welcome back to Skye once again

Come along, come along wi' your boatie and your song
My ain bonnie maids, my twa bonnie maids
And saft shall ye rest where the heather grows best
And ye are dearly welcome back to Skye once again

There's a wind in the tree, a ship on the sea
My ain bonnie maids, my twa bonnie maids
Your cradle I'll rock on the lea of the rock
And ye are dearly welcome back to Skye once again

Come along, come along wi' your boatie and your song
My ain bonnie maids, my twa bonnie maids
Mair sound shall ye sleep as she sail o'er the deep
And ye are dearly welcome back to Skye once again

Friday, August 05, 2005

Annie Laurie



Maxwelton's braes are bonnie
Where early fa's the dew
And 'twas there that Annie Laurie
Gave me her promise true.
Gave me her promise true
Which ne'er forgot will be
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doon and dee.

Her brow is like the snowdrift
Her throat is like the swan
Her face it is the fairest
That e'er the sun shone on.
That e'er the sun shone on
And dark blue is her e'e
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doon and dee.

Like dew on th'gowan lying
Is th' fa' o'her fairy feet
And like the winds in summer sighing
Her voice is low and sweet.
Her voice is low and sweet
And she's a' the world to me
And for bonnie Annie Laurie
I'd lay me doon and dee.

Thursday, August 04, 2005

WILLIE’S GAN TAE MELVILLE CASTLE



Chorus:

Willie’s gan tae Melville Castle, boots and spurs and a’
Tae bid the ladies a’ fareweel, afore he gaed awa’
Oh Willie’s young and blithe and bonnie lo’ed by ain and a’
And what will all the lassies do when Willie gaes awa’


Well the first he met was lady Gate, she led him thro’ the hall
And wi’ a sad and sorry heart she let the tear doon fall
Beside the fire stood lady Grace, siad ne’er a word at all
She thought that she sure was of him before he gaed awa’


Chorus:

Willie’s gan tae Melville Castle, boots and spurs and a’
Tae bid the ladies a’ fareweel, afore he gaed awa’
Oh Willie’s young and blithe and bonnie lo’ed by ain and a’
And what will all the lassies do when Willie gaes awa’


Well ben the hoose came lady Bell, guid sakes ye needna cra’
Maybe the lad will fancy me and disappoint ye a’
Then doon the stair came lady Jean, the flower among them a’
Saying lassies trust in providence, and ye’ll get husband’s a’


Chorus:

Willie’s gan tae Melville Castle, boots and spurs and a’
Tae bid the ladies a’ fareweel, afore he gaed awa’
Oh Willie’s young and blithe and bonnie lo’ed by ain and a’
And what will all the lassies do when Willie gaes awa’


When on his horse he raid awa’ they gaithered at the door
And when he raised his bonnet blue they set up sic a roar
Their sighs and tears brought Willie back, he’s kissed them ain and a’
Saying lassies bide till I come hame and then I’ll wed ye a’


Chorus:

Willie’s gan tae Melville Castle, boots and spurs and a’
Tae bid the ladies a’ fareweel, afore he gaed awa’
Oh Willie’s young and blithe and bonnie lo’ed by ain and a’
And what will all the lassies do when Willie gaes awa’

Wednesday, August 03, 2005

Westering Home



Chorus:

Westering home and a song in the air
Light in the eye and its goodbye to care
Laughter o' love and a welcoming there
Isle o' my heart my own one

Tell me o' lands o' the Orient gay
Speak o' the riches and joys o' Cathay
Aye but its grand to be wakin' each day
To find yourself nearer to Islay

(Chorus>

Where are the folk like the folk o' the West
Cantie and couthie and kindly the best (cheerful and pleasant)
There I would hie me and there I would rest (hide)
At hame wi' my ain folk in Islay (home with my own)

(chorus
repeat)
Skye Boat Song



The words are by Sir Harold Boulton, Bart., 1884. The first half of the tune is said to be an old sea shanty; the other half is traditionally attributed to Miss Annie MacLeod.
Charles Edward Stewart, the Young Pretender, was defeated by the Duke of Cumberland on Culloden Moor in 1746. Aided by Flora MacDonald, Bonnie Prince Charlie escaped to the island of Skye. He was later taken by a French vessel to Morlaix on the coast of Bretagne.


Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing,
Onward, the sailors cry
Carry the lad that's born to be king
Over the sea to skye

Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
Thunder clouds rend the air;
Baffled our foe's stand on the shore
Follow they will not dare

Speed bonnie boat....

Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep
Ocean's a royal bed
Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep
Watch by your weary head

Speed bonnie boat....

Many's the lad fought on that day
Well the claymore could wield
When the night came, silently lay
Dead on Culloden's field

Speed bonnie boat...

Burned are our homes, exile and death
Scatter the loyal men
Yet, e'er the sword cool in the sheath,
Charlie will come again.

Speed bonnie boat...

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

The Winter It Is Past
v. 1 and 2, Robert Burns, 1788; v.3 and 4 unknown



The winter it is past,
And the summers comes at last,
And the small birds sing on ev'ry tree;
The hearts of these are glad,
While I am very sad,
Since my true love is parted from me.

2. The rose upon the breer,
By the waters running clear,
May have charms for the linnet or the bee;
Their little loves are blest
And their little hearts at rest,
But my true love is parted from me.

3. My love is like the sun,
In the firmament does run,
For ever constant and true;
But his is like the moon
That wanders up and down,
And every month it is new.

4. All you that are in love
And cannot it remove,
I pity the pains you endure:
For experience makes me know
That your hearts are full of woe,
A woe no mortal can cure.

Monday, August 01, 2005

A Man's A Man
Robert Burns



Is there for honest poverty
That hings his heed and a' that
The coward slave we pass him by
We dare be poor for a' that
For a' that and a' that
Our toils obscure and a' that
The rank is but the guinea's stamp
The mands the gowd for a' that

What tho' on hamely fare we dine
Wear hoddin-gray and a' that
Gie fools their silks and knaves their wine
A man's a man for a' that
For a' that and a' that
Their tinsel show and a' that
The honest man tho' e'er sae poor
Is king o' men for a' that

Ye see yon birkie ca'd a lord
Wha struts and stares and a' that
Tho' hundreds worship at his word
He's but a coof for a' that
For a' that and a' that
His riband, star and a' that
The man o' independent mind
He looks and laughs at a' that

A prince can mak a belted knight
A marquis, duke and a' that
But an honest mands aboon his might
Guid faith he mauna fa' that
For a' that and a' that
Their dignities and a' that
The pith o' sense and pride o' worth
Are higher rank than a' that

Then let us pray that come it may
As come it will and a' that
That sense and worth o'er a' the earth
Shall bear the gree and a' that
For a' that and a' that
It's coming yet for a' that
That man to man the warld o'er
Shall brothers be for a' that
For a' that and a' that
It's coming yet for a' that
That man to man the warld o'er
Shall brothers be for a' that

Sunday, July 31, 2005

The Battle of Harlaw



As I cam in by Dunidier
And doon by Netherha',
There were fifty thoosand Hieland men
Cam mairchin' tae Harlaw.
Wi' a dree dree dradie drumtie dree
A dree dree drumtie dra.

As I cam on and further on
And doon and by Harlaw,
They fell fu' close on ilka side;
Sic fun ye never saw.

They fell fu' close on ilka side;
Sic fun ye never saw,
For Hieland swords gied clash for clash
At the battle o' Harlaw.

Brave Forbes tae his brither did say,
"Noo brither, dinna ye see?
They beat us back on ilka side,
And we'll be forced tae flee."

"O no, o no, my brither dear,
That thing maun never be;
Tak ye your gude sword in your hand
And come your wa's wi' me."

Then back tae back the brithers twa
Gaed in amang the thrang,
And they hewed doon the Hieland men
Wi' swords baith sharp and lang.

MacDonal, he was young and stout,
Had on his coat o' mail,
And he has gane oot through them a'
Tae try his hand himsel'.

The first ae strake that Forbes strack,
He gart MacDonal reel;
The niest ae strake that Forbes strack,
The great MacDonal fell.

On Monaday, at mornin',
The battle it began;
On Saturday, at gloamin',
Ye'd scarce ken wha had wan.

Gin onybody spier at ye
For them ye took awa',
Ye may tell their wives and bairnies
They're sleepin' at Harlaw.

Saturday, July 30, 2005

ROSE OF ALLENDALE
Trad.



The moon was bright, the night was clear
No breeze came over the sea
When Mary left her highland home
And wandered forth with me
The flowers be-decked the mountainside
And fragrance filled the vale
But by far the sweetest flower there
Was the Rose of Allendale

Twas the Rose of Allendale
Twas the Rose of Allendale
By far the sweetest flower there
Was the Rose of Allendale

Where e'er I wandered east or west
Though fate began to lour
A solace still was she to me
In sorrow's lonely hour
When tempests lashed our lonely barque
And rent her quivering sail
One maiden's form withstood the storm
'Twas the Rose of Allendale

Twas the Rose of Allendale
Twas the Rose of Allendale
One maiden's form withstood the storm
'Twas the Rose of Allendale

And when my fever'd lips were parched
On Afric's burning sands
She whispered hopes of happiness
And tales of distant lands
My life had been a wilderness
Unblessed by fortune's wheel
Had fate not linked my love to hers
The Rose of Allendale

Twas the Rose of Allendale
Twas the Rose of Allendale
Had fate not linked my love to hers
The Rose of Allendale

Thursday, July 28, 2005

Toon O' Kelso
(Trad)



It was in the toon o' Kelso
A lovely woman did dwell
She loved her husband dearly
But another man twice as well

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

She went doon tae the chemist's shop
Some medicine for tae buy
For she had resolved in her ain mind
That her auld man should die

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

She bought a dozen marrow bones
And she's ground them up right sma'
And before he'd eaten the half o' them
He couldnae see ony at a'

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Im tired o' my life he cried
I'm tired o' my life
I think I'll awa' and drown myself
And that will end this strife

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

So down the street together they went
She whistled and she sang
Oh my husbands going to drown himself
I'll help tae push him in

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Well doon the street together they went
Til they came to the waters brim
Said he, You'll take a great long race
To help to ding me in

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

So she went back a great lang race
Tae help tae ding him in
But the cunning old bugger he jumped aside
And she gaed tumblin' in

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Oh save ma life, oh save ma life
Oh save me when I call
Oh how can I save your life
When I canna see ony at a'

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Well she swam up and she swam doon
Til she cam tae the waters brim
But the cunning old man he got a long stick
And he poked her further in

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an

Ye jaud, ye jaud, ye silly auld jaud
Ye thought ye had me blind
But I'll gae whistlin' hame again
And another wife I'll find

Singin, fal di la lairly, fal di la lairy, fal di la lairy, an
Tiree Love Song



he-ree he-ro my bonnie wee girl.
he-ree he-ro my fair one.
Will you come away my love.
To be my own my rare one.

Smiling the land, shining the sea.
Sweet is the smell o' the heather.
Would we were younger you and me.
The two of us together.

Chorus:
he-ree he-ro my bonnie wee girl.
he-ree he-ro my fair one.
Will you come away my love.
To be my own my rare one.

All the day long, out on the peat.
Then on the shore in the gloaming.
Stepping it lightly with dancing feet.
And then together roaming.
Chorus

Laughter above, singing below.
Tripping it lithsome and airy.
Could we be asking of life for more.
My own my darling Mary.
Chorus

Wednesday, July 27, 2005

The Castle of Dromore



The October winds lament
Around the Castle of Dromore,
Yet peace is in its lofty halls,
My loving treasure store.
Though autumn leaves may droop and die
A bud of spring are you.
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la loo, lo lan,
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la lo.

Bring no ill winds to hinder us,
My helpless babe and me,
Dread spirit of Blackwater banks,
Clan Owen's wild banshee.
And Holy Mary pitying us
In heav'n for grace doth sue.
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la loo, lo lan,
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la lo.

Take time to thrive, my rose of hope,
In the garden of Dromore.
Take heed, young eagle, till your wings
Are feathered fit to soar.
A little rest and then the world
Is full of work to do
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la loo, lo lan,
Sing hush-a-bye loo, la lo.

Tuesday, July 26, 2005

THE SUNDAY DRIVER
-Bill Hill (CML)
(Tune: Traditional)



Well I've been a Sunday driver noo for many a happy year
And I've never had my Morris Minor oot of second gear
I can drive at fifty miles an hour on motorway or track
With me wife up front beside me and her mother in the back

CHORUS: There was me and my daddy and my daddy's mammy
And her sister's Granny and four of her chums
And Auntie Jean!

In a crowd of fifty trippers you can always pick me oot
By my "Don't blame me, I voted Tory" sticker on the boot
Wi' my bunch of heather stickin' in me radiator grille
And me stick-on transfer bullet holes and licence for to kill!

(And Auntie Peg!)

I've a hundred plastic pennants for to tell you where I've been
And my steering wheel is clad in simulated leopard-skin
Up front from the drivin' mirror hangs a plastic skeleton
And in the back a dog wi' eyes that flicker off and on!

(And Auntie May!)

I always drive as though my foot was restin' on the brake
And I weave aboot the road just so's ye cannae overtake
I can get y'sae frustrated that ye'll finish up in tears
And the sound of blarin' motor horns is music to my ears!

(And Auntie Liz!)

Now if ye wonder how these weekly trips I can afford
It's because I'm on a stipend from the Scottish Tourist Board
You're supposed tae enjoy the scenery, the finest of it's kind
And that is why I have a convoy followin' behind!

(And Auntie Rose!)

There's just no way of escaping me, no matter how ye seek
For the simple fact that I'm a Traffic Warden thru the week
I'm boostin' my efficiency, and here's my master plan:
I'm savin' up my pennies for to buy a Caravan!

(And Auntie Gert-trude!)

Monday, July 25, 2005

Ae Fond Kiss

by Robert Burns



Ae fond kiss, and then we sever
Ae farewell, and then forever
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.

Who shall say that Fortune grieves him,
While the star of hope she leaves him
Me nae cheerful twinkle lights me,
Dark despair around benights me.

I'll ne'er blame my partial fancy:
Nothing could resist my Nancy
But to see her was to love her
Love but her, and love for ever.

Had we never loe'd sae kindly,
Had we never loe'd sae blindly,
Never met - nor never parted -
We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

Fare thee weel, thou first and fairest
Fare thee weel, thou best and dearest
Thine be ilka joy and treasure,
Peace, Enjoyment, Love and Pleasure

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever
Ae farewell, alas, for ever
Deep in heart-wrung tears I'll pledge thee,
Warring sighs and groans I'll wage thee.