| Peggy Gordon (Traditional) Oh, Peggy Gordon you are my darling Come sit you down upon my knee Come tell to me the very reason Why I am slighted so by thee I'm so in love I can't deny it My heart lies smothered in my breast It's not for you to let the world know it A troubled mind can know no rest I did put my head to a cask of brandy It was my fancy I do declare For when I'm drinking I am thinking And wishing Peggy Gordon was here I wish I was away in Ingo Far across the briny sea Sailing o'er the deepest ocean Where love nor care never bother me I wish I was in some lonesome valley Where womankind can not be found Where the pretty small birds do change their voices And every moment a different sound Oh, Peggy Gordon you are my darling Come sit you down upon my knee Come tell to me the very reason Why I am slighted so by thee Her Mantle So Green As I went out walking one morning in June, To view the fair fields and the valleys in bloom, I spied a pretty fair maid she appeared like a queen With her costly fine robes and her mantle so green. Says I, "My pretty fair maid, won't you come with me We'll both join in wedlock, and married we'll be, I'll dress you in fine linen, you'll appear like a queen, With your costly fine robes and your mantle so green." Says she now, "You Young man, you must be excused, For I'll wed with no man, you must be refused; To the green woods I will wander to shun all men's view, . For the lad that I love fell in famed Waterloo." "O, then, if you won't marry, tell me your love's name, For I being in battle, I might know the same." "Draw near to my garment and there will be seen, His name is embroidered on my mantle so green." In raising her mantle there I did behold His name and his surname in letters of gold; Young William O'Reilly appeared in my view He was my chief comrade back in famed Waterloo. But when he was dying I heard his last cry 'If you were here, Lovely Nancy, contented I'd die;' Now Peace is proclaimed, and the truth I declare Here is your love token, the gold ring I wear." O, Nancy, dear Nancy, 'tis I won your heart In your father's garden that day we did part. Now the wars are all over, no trouble is seen And I'll wed with my true love in her mantle so green." Lord Franklin We were homeward bound one night on the deep Swinging in my hammock I fell asleep I dreamed a dream and I thought it true Concerning Franklin and his gallant crew With 100 seamen he sailed away To the frozen ocean in the month of May To seek a passage around the pole Where all poor sailors do sometimes go. Through cruel hardships they vainly strove Their ships on mountains of ice was drove Only the Eskimo with his skin canoe Was the only one that ever came through In Baffin's Bay where the whale fish blow The fate of Franklin no man may know The fate of Franklin no tongue can tell And Lord Franklin among his seamen do dwell And now my burden it gives me pain For my Lord Franklin I'd sail the main Ten thousand pounds I would freely give To know Lord Franklin, and where he is. The Singing Bird I have seen the lark soar high at morn Heard his song up in the blue I have heard the blackbird pipe his note The thrush and the linnet too But there's none of them can sing so sweet My singing bird as you. If I could lure my singing bird From his own cozy nest If I could catch my singing bird I would warm him on my breast For there's none of them can sing so sweet My singing bird as you. My singing bird as you. My singing bird as you. Óró, Sé Do Bheatha 'Bhaile (You Are Welcome Home) Se do bheatha a bhean ba leanmhar! (Welcome Oh woman who was so afflicted) B'e ar gcreach tu bheith i ngeibhinn (It was our ruin that you were in bondage) Do dhuiche bhrea i seilbh meirleach (Our fine land in the possesion of theives) 'S tu diolta leis na Ghallaibh. (And sold to the foreigners) Chorus: Oro, se do bheatha 'bhaile! x3 (Óró! You are welcome home!) Anois ar theacht an tsamhraidh. (Now that summer is coming) Ta Grainne Mhaol ag teacht thar saile, (Grainne Mhaol is coming over the sea) Oglaigh armtha lei mar gharda (Armed warriors along with her as guard) Gaeil iad fein 's ni Gaill na Spainnigh (They are Irishmen, not English or Spanish) 'S cuirfid siad ruaig ar Ghallaibh. (And they will rout the foreigners) Chorus A bhui le Ri na bhfeart go bhfeiceam (May it please the God of Miracles that we may see) Muna mbeam beo 'na dhiaidh ach seachtain (Although we only live a week after it) Grainne Mhaol agus mile gaiscioch (Grainne Mhaol and a thousand warriors) Ag fogairt fain ar Ghallaibh. (Dispersing the foreigners) Chorus Molly Malone In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone As she wheeled her wheelbarrow through streets broad and narrow Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O! A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O! Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O! She was a fishmonger and sure it was no wonder For so were her father and mother before And they both wheeled their barrows through streets broad and narrow Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O! A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O! Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O! She died of a fever and no one could save her And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone Now her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O! A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O! Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O! A-live a-live O! A-live a-live O! Crying cockles and mussels alive a-live O! Paddy's Lament Well it's by the hush, me boys, and sure that's to hold your noise And listen to poor Paddy's sad narration I was by hunger stressed, and in poverty distressed So I took a thought I'd leave the Irish nation Well I sold me ass and cow, my little pigs and sow My little plot of land I soon did part with And me sweetheart Bid McGee, I'm afraid I'll never see For I left her there that morning broken-hearted Here's you boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin Well myself and a hundred more, to America sailed o'er Our fortunes to be making we were thinkin' When we got to Yankee land, they put guns into our hands "Paddy, you must go and fight for Lincoln" Here's you boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin General Meagher to us he said, if you get shot or lose your head Every murdered soul of youse will get a pension Well in the war lost me leg, they gave me a wooden peg And by soul it is the truth to you I mention Here's you boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin Well I think myself in luck, if I get fed on Indianbuck And old Ireland is the country I delight in To the devil, I would say, it's curse Americay For the truth I've had enough of your hard fightin Here's you boys, now take my advice To America I'll have ye's not be going There is nothing here but war, where the murderin' cannons roar And I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin I wish I was at home I wish I was at home I wish I was at home I wish I was at home in dear old Dublin The Moorlough Shore Ye hills and dales and flowery vales that lie near the Moorlough Shore. Ye winds that blow by borden's grove. will I ever hear you more Where the primrose grows and the violet blows. Where the trout and salmon play. With line and hook delight I took to spend my youthful days. Last night I went to see my love, and to hear what she might say. To see if she'd take pity on me, lest I might go away. She said, "I love that Irish lad, and he was my only joy, and ever since I saw his face I've loved that soldier boy." Perhaps your soldier lad is lost sailing over the sea of Maine. Or perhaps he is gone with some other lover, you may never see him again. Well if my Irish lad is lost, he's the one I do adore, and seven years I will wait for him by the banks of the Moorlough Shore. Farewell to Sinclaire's castle grand. Farewell to the foggy dew. where the linen waves like bleaching silk and the falling stream runs still Near there I spent my youthful days but alas they are all gone for cruelty has banished me far away from the Moorlough Shore. The Parting Glass Oh, all the money e'er I had, I spent it in good company. And all the harm that ever I've done, alas it was to none but me. And all I've done for want of wit to mem'ry now I can't recall; So fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be with you all. If I had money enough to spend, and leisure time to sit awhile. There is a fair maid in this town, that sorely has my heart beguiled. Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips, I own, she has my heart in thrall; Then fill to me the parting glass, Good night and joy be with you all. Oh, all the comrades e'er I had, they're sorry for my going away. And all the sweethearts e'er I had, they'd wished me one more day to stay. But since it falls unto my lot, that I should rise and you should not, I gently rise and softly call, Goodnight and joy be with you all. Báidín Fheilimí Baidin Fheilimi, d'imigh go Gabhla, Baidin Fheilimi ' s Feilimi ann, Baidin Fheilimi D ' imigh go Gabhla Baidin Fheilimi 's, Feilimi ann. Baidin bideach, baidin beosach, Baidin boidheach, baidin Fheilimi,Baidin direach, baidin deontach, Baidin Fheilimi 's Feilimi ann. Baidin Fheilimi d ' imigh go Trocaigh, Baidin Fheilimi 's Feilime ann. Baidin Fheilimi d ' imigh go Trocaigh, Baidin Fheilimi 's Feilime ann. Baidin bideach, baidin beosach, Baidin boidheach, baidin Fheilimi,Baidin direach, baidin deontach, Baidin Fheilimi 's Feilimi ann. Baidin Fheilimi briseadh i dToraigh, Baidin Fheilimi ' s Feilimi ann. Baidin Fheilimi briseadh i dToraigh, Baidin Fheilimi ' s Feilimi ann. Baidin bideach, baidin beosach, Baidin boidheach, baidin Fheilimi,Baidin direach, baidin deontach, Baidin Fheilimi 's Feilimi ann. Baidin bideach, baidin beosach, Baidin boidheach, baidin Fheilimi,Baidin direach, baidin deontach, Baidin Fheilimi 's Feilimi ann. My Lagan Love Where Lagan stream sings lullaby There blow a lily fair The twilight gleam is in her eye The night is no her hair And like a love-sick lenanshee She hath my heart in thrall Nor life I owe, nor liberty for love is lord of all and often when the beetles horn Hath lulled the eve to sleep I steal unto here shielding lorn And thro' the dooring peep There on the cricket's singing stone She makes the bog wood fire And hums in sad sweet undertone The song of heart's desire Lord Baker There was a Lord who lived in this land He being a Lord of high degree He left his foot down a ship's board And swore strange countries he would go see. He's travelled east and he's travelled west Half the north and the south also Until he arrived into Turkey land. There he was taken and bound in prison Until his life it grew weary. And Turkey bold had one only daughter As fair a lady, as the eye could see She stole the key to her Daddy's harbour And swore Lord Baker, she would set free. Singing, 'You have houses and you have linen, All Northumber belongs to thee What would you give to Turkey's daughter If out of prison she'd set you free?' Singing, 'I have houses, I have linen, All Northumber belongs to me I would will them all to you my darling, If out of prison you set me free?' She's brought him down to her Daddy's harbour And filled for him was the ship of fame And every toast that she did drink round him, 'I wish Lord Baker that you were mine.' They made a vow for seven years And seven more for to keep it strong Saying 'If you don't wed with no other woman I'm sure I'll wed with no other man.' And seven years been past and over And seven more they were rolling on She's bundled up all her golden clothing And swore Lord Baker she would go find. She's travelled East and she's travelled West Until she came to the palace of fame 'Who is that, who is that?' called the young foot soldier 'Who knocks so gently and can't get in?' 'Is this Lord Baker's palace?' replied the lady 'Or is his lordship himself within?' 'This is Lord Baker's palace' replied the porter, 'This very day took a new bride in.' 'Well ask him send me a cut of his wedding cake A glass of his wine that been e'er so strong And to remember the brave young lady Who did release him in Turkey land.' In goes, in goes, the young foot soldier Kneels down gently on his right knee 'Rise up, rise up now the brave young porter, What news, what news have you got for me?' Singing, 'I have news of a grand arrival, As fair a lady as the eye could see She is at the gate Waiting for your charity.' 'She wears a gold ring on every finger, And on the middle one where she wears three, She has more gold hanging around her middle Than'd buy Northumber and family.' 'She asked you send her a cut of your wedding cake A glass of your wine, it been e'er so strong, And to remember the brave young lady Who did release you in Turkey land.' Down comes, down comes the new bride's mother 'What will I do with my daughter dear?' 'I know your daughter, she's not been covered Nor has she shown any love for me. Your daughter came with one pack of gold I'll avert her home now, with thirty-three.' He took his sword all by the handle And cut the wedding cake, in pieces three Singing 'here's a slice for the new bride's mother A slice for me new love and one for me.' And then Lord Baker, ran to his darling Of twenty-one steps, he made but three He put his arms around Turkey's daughter And kissed his true love, most tenderly. I'll Tell Me Ma I'll tell me Ma when I go home The boys won't leave the girls alone. They pull my hair, they stole my comb, but that's alright till I go home. Chorus: She is handsome, she is pretty She is the belle of Belfast city She is courtin' one, two, three. Please won't you tell me, who is she? Albert Mooney says he loves her, All the boys are fighting for her. They knock at the door and ring at the bell Saying "Oh, my true love are you well?" Out she comes as white as snow, Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes. Oul Jenny Murray says she'll die, If she don't get the fellow with the roving eye. Chorus Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high and the snow come tumblin' from the sky She's as nice as apple pie And she'll get her own lad by and by. When she gets a lad of her own, she won't tell her Ma when she goes home Let them all come as they will For it's Albert Mooney she loves still. |
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| The Lyrics to 'Sean Nos-Nua' |
| and The Healing Room present |
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| Luke Kelly made this song famous. But it was Elizabeth Cotton, an African-American woman from North Carolina who originally gave it to an American song collector. It is usually sung by men in Ireland but I like it as a song sung by a female. I first heard it from a woman who was singing it as an expression of mourning for the loss of her female lover. I fell in love with the song as an expression of homosexual love, which often is not allowed voice itself in Ireland. It is a whisper of a song, which to me expresses the sheer fragility of homosexual love in a world that teaches, against God, that love is conditional There is a tradition in Irish songs, of a young soldier returning home from war in disguise to see if his woman has been true by pretending he is a friend of the lover, and that the lover has died. Rather cruel really! And for some reason all the men singing in these songs think it´s ok to come home and pretend theyªre dead and get their woman in a terrible state and then say ¨Ha ha, I was only joking¨. For me, the song is really about the love of the people of Ireland for their culture and their experience of having to let the culture die in order to be born again as something more joyous. That is what I believe is taking place right now in Ireland - a God-sent miracle. The new culture of Ireland, as represented by the narrator in disguise, shows that the Ireland we romanticised for so long about is going to be something much better than we were taught to long for, which was an Ireland united by bullshit, instead of united by love. From war or bad circumstance, Jah comes in disguise as people in need of our aid, with all the golden gifts they bring. This is the story of Sir John Franklin (1786-1847) who set out (for some crazy reason) to discover the Northwest Passage through the Arctic Ocean and was lost. It is told by his wife, Jane, who spent many years and all her fortune searching for her husband in vain. The song begins while she is on the way home in one of the searching ships dreaming that she is with her love and his crew. She wakes to find the dream untrue and the rest is her grief song To me, this song is a prayer and the Singing Bird is Jah. I first heard it sung by the McPeakes in sean-nós (that is to say Œacapella¹, for the posh people; or literally Œold-style¹).For me, the song acknowledges the greatness of Jah above all greatness and the power of Jah above all powers. It also acknowledges that prayers given in praise of Jah, bring a sense of connection with The Most High, love, peace and utter joy into one¹s heart. The song, when sung, is a meditation and has healing effects upon the singer This song, for me, celebrates the return of any woman to her power, having lost it to invading forces. It is an honouring of the female warrior spirit and of the right of women to be true to themselves despite what the world dictates they 'should' be. A song celebrating the preciousness of female ferocity, strength and fire. It shows that a suppressed spirit only creates loss and depression and that only by being one's true self can one find joy. This is represented by the coming of summer in the song. It was taught to all young school children in Ireland until recently, but its meaning was never explained. We were taught it was a rowing song. In actuality it is a war song in honour of Grace O'Malley otherwise known as Gráinne Mhaol, a warrior noblewoman of Ireland who lived at the time of Elizabeth I, and whose ships were a formidable force on the Irish west coast. This I learned from my father, who loves Dublin and its history. It is a popular song about the old Dublin street traders, about a Dublin which has been lost in the mists of time. My Dad would sing it in the car when we were children. In my opinion most other people didn't seem to feel the real emotions of the song like he did. They'd blast it out until it blocked out the ghosts that were speaking. My father gave tender gentility to the song so that one could feel the ghosts This song tells the story of an Irish immigrant to the US in the 19th century. In flight from hunger, he finds himself conscripted under General Lincoln in the American Civil War. General Thomas Francis Meagher, from Waterford, was organiser and commander of the Irish Brigade in the Union Army. I first heard the song twelve years ago when I was living in Los Angeles during the Gulf War. The incredible Mary Black was the singer. It was sung so beautifully that needless to say it struck a large chord. It is the best anti-war song ever made, in my humble opinion. The ghost of the man speaking through the song is so present that I feel I could reach out and touch him and he'd be flesh and bone. I can see him so clearly in my mind. It's a tricky song to sing because it requires the singer to become the ghost. You have to believe in ghosts to be open to singing it. Then he jumps right in and off he goes, little old guy with a very big message. The Moorlough Shore is one of my favourite songs of all time. I first heard it seven or so years ago on a 'Say Discs' compilation which had an old man singing it sean-nós. It seems to me a song which tells a story of impulsiveness and impatience, and the sorrow which can be caused by running away from one's problems. A young man doesn't get what he wants and is not prepared to wait. He leaves because the woman he loves won't go out with him straight away but says he has to wait seven years in case her husband should return alive from wherever he is at war. He runs away from his grief and her test of him and in consequence his old age is full of loneliness and longing for his home. The song really advises, that in life, it's better to face one's losses and grief when they happen, than to run away from them and regret running when it's too late to stop. A metaphor for life's bittersweet leave takings, this song is a traditional closing anthem. It is well known in both Ireland and Scotland. Before 'Auld Lang Syne', it was the most popular parting song in Scotland This is another song which is taught to all Irish school children at a young age. It tells the story of Feilimí Cam Ó Baoill, a chieftain of the Rosses in the 17th century. He had to take to the Islands off Donegal to escape his archenemy Maolmhuire an Bhata Bhuí Mac Suibhne. Tory Island was more inaccessible and seemed safer than Gola, but his little boat was wrecked there. For me, the song is one of defiance and bravery in spite of terrible odds. It is a song of encouragement that we should be true to ourselves even if being true means 'defeat'. A song of the beauty of freedom. And a song of the power of the sea as a metaphor for the unconscious mind. It shows that we can never escape our soul. This song I first heard fifteen years ago on a Planxty record, with Christy Moore singing it. Christy got it from a settled traveller named John Reilly, who lived in Roscommon. Christy altered some of the words, as he couldn't always understand John's pronunciation. DK Wilgus and Tom Munnelly recorded 36 of Reilly's songs in 1968. Reilly died of pneumonia at the age of 43, six weeks after the recordings were made. Some of his songs were released later on a Topic album named 'The Bonny Green Tree'. For me, the song has similarities with the great 'Song of Solomon' in the Judaic and Christian Holy scriptures. It speaks of a love relationship between a man and a woman and a promise made of undying love. But underneath, the subtext tells the story of the relationship between God and Mankind. They make a vow for seven years and seven more. Seven is the number of God. I like the fact that, (unusually), the woman represents God and sets Baker free, making him promise loyalty and love. Baker almost breaks his promise, as his faith weakens with age, and Turkey's daughter arrives just in time to prevent him marrying a false love who only cares for his material wealth. The song reminds me of some very beautiful lines in 'The Song Of Solomon', otherwise known as 'The Song of Songs'-'Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as a seal upon thine arm: for love is strong as death; and jealousy is cruel as the grave: the coals thereof are coals of fire, which have a most vehement flame. Many waters cannot quench love, neither can the floods drown it: if a man would give all the substance of his house for love, he would be laughed to scorn'. Another song learned in childhood. It was originally a Belfast skipping song but was also popular among Dublin children, such as myself. The naming of local people in the song contrasts with the deliberate failure to name the girl whom the song is about, which of course, only serves to increase her allure |