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    Amhrán na bhFiann - national anthem (1)   A Soldier's Song - national anthem (2)    A Bucket of the Mountain Dew    A Bunch of Thyme   Admiral William Brown   A Fenian Song    A Little Bit of Heaven    All Around My Hat   A Man You Don't Meet Every Day    A Mothers Love Is A Blessing   A Muirsheen Durkin    A Nation Once Again    And the Band Played Waltzing Matilda    A Night To Remember    An Irishman's Dream    The Armagh Sniper   Arthur McBride    A Stór Mo Chroi     B      Back Home In Derry    Ballyroan   The Bard of Armagh    Barry's Column    Belfast Brigade   Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms    The Birmingham Six   The Black And Tan Gun    Black And Tans    Black Is the Colour    Black Velvet Band    The Bold Black And Tan    The Bold Fenian Men    The Bold O'Donohue    Bold Robert Emmet    Bold Tenant Farmer   Bonnie Kellswater    Boolavogue (1)    Boolavogue (2)   Botany Bay    The Boys From the County Armagh   The Boys From the County Cork   The Boys From the County Mayo   Boys of Fairhill   The Boys of Kilkenny    The Boys of Killybegs   Boys of Kilmichael    Boys of the Old Brigade    Bread And Fishes   Brennan On the Moor    Bridgit O'Malley    Bring Them Home   Broad Black Brimmer    Buachaill Ón Éirne      C      Carrickfergus (1)    Carrickfergus (2)    The Cliffs of Doneen    Cockles And Mussels (Molly Malone)    Comical Genius   Courtin' In the Kitchen    The Crack Was Ninety In the Isle of Man    The Creggan White Hare   The Croppy Boy    The Curragh of Kildare      D      Danny Boy    The Dawning of the Day    Dear Boss (The Sick Note)    The Dear Little Shamrock   Death Of Schomberg   The Decommissioning Song   Derry's Deathless Story   De Valera   The Devil And Bailiff McGlynn   Dicey Reilly    Did Your Mother Come From Ireland   Dingle Bay   Dirty Old Town    Down By the Glenside    Down By the Salley Gardens    Do You Want Your Old Lobby Washed Down    Dublin Jack of All Trades      E      Easy And Slow    Eileen Aroon    Erin Go Bragh      F      The Fair At Turloughmore    Fairytale of New York    Fare Thee Well Enniskillen (1)    Fare Thee Well Enniskillen (2)   Farewell To Dublin In My Tears   The Fenian Record Player   The Fenians' Escape    Fiddlers Green    The Fields of Athenry    Finnegan's Wake    Flight of Earls    Flower of Sweet Strabane    The Foggy Dew    Follow Me Up To Carlow    Forty Shades of Green    For What Died the Sons of Róisin   Four Green Fields    Freedom Sons   Free The People   From Clare to Here (1)   From Clare to Here (2)     G      Gallipoli   Galway Bay    Galway Farmer    The Galway Races (1)    The Galway Races (2)   The Galway Races (3)   Gardai 'N Rí   The Garden Where the Praties Grow   Garryowen    Give Me Your Hand   God Bless England    God Save Ireland    Goodbye Mick   The Green Fields of France      H      Hills of Connemara    How Are Things In Glocca Morra      I      If I Was A Blackbird    If You're Irish...    I'll Take You Home Again Kathleen    I'll Tell Me Ma    I.R.E.L.A.N.D.    The Irish Emigrant    The Irish Free State   The Irish Mail Robber   The Irish Rover (1)    The Irish Rover (2)    Irish Soldier Boy    Irish Soldier Laddie    Irish Ways And Irish Laws   Isle of Hope, Isle of Tears   Isle of Inishfree   It Was Pretty To Be In Ballinderry      J      James Connolly    Johnny Has Gone For A Soldier (Shule Agra)    Johnny Be Fair    Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye    Johnson's Motor Car    The Jolly Beggarman    Jug of Punch    Just Give Me Your Hand      K      Kathleen Mavourneen    Kelly of Killane    The Kerry Dance    The Kerry Recruit    Kevin Barry      L      Lakes of Coolfin   Lakes of Pontchartrain    The Langer    Lanigan's Ball    The Lark In the Clear Air    Lark In the Morning    The Lass of Aughrim   The Leaving of Liverpool (1)    The Leaving of Liverpool (2)    The Legion of the Rearguard    Limerick You're A Lady   Little Grey Home In the West   Lord Nelson    Lord of the Dance      M      MacNamara's Band    Macushla   The Maid Who Sold Her Barley    Maids When You're Young    The Man From the Daily Mail    Many Young Men of Twenty   Mc Alpine's Fusiliers    The Meeting of the Waters    The Men Behind the Wire    The Men of the West    The Merry Ploughboy    Michael Collins    The Minstrel Boy    Mo Ghile Mear    Molly Malone (Cockles And Mussels)    The Mountain Tay    Mountains of Mourne    My Uncle Is In the Dáil      N      Nell Flaherty's Drake    Nelson's Farewell    No Irish Need Apply      O      O'Donnell Abu    Old Fenian Gun   The Old Man   Only Our Rivers Run Free    On Midsummer Day    On the One Road    The Ould Woman From Wexford   Our Lads In Crumlin Jail     P      Paddy McGinty's Goat    Paddy's Green Shamrock Shore (1)    Paddy's Green Shamrock Shore (2)   Paddy's Green Shamrock Shore (3)   Paddy's Lamentation   Padraig Pearse   The Parting Glass    Patrick Street   The Patriot Game    Peggy Gordon    Peggy Lettermore (1)   Peggy Lettermore (2)   The Peoples Own M.P.   Pick Up Your Rifle   Poor Paddy On the Railway    Preab San Ol   Pretty Little Girl From Omagh     Q      Queen of Connemara     R      Raglan Road    The Rare Oul' Times    Red Is the Rose    Reilly's Daughter (1)    Reilly's Daughter (2)    The Reluctant Patriot    The Rifles of the I.R.A.    The Rising of the Moon (1)    The Rising of the Moon (2)    Roads of Kildare   Rocky Road To Dublin    Roddy McCorley    Róisin Dubh   The Rose of Mooncoin    The Rose of Tralee    Rosin the Beau      S      The Sea Around Us    Sean South of Garryowen    Seven Drunken Nights (1)    Seven Drunken Nights (2)   The Shores of Amerikay    Shule Agra (Johnny Has Gone For A Soldier)    The Sick Note (Dear Boss)    Skibbereen (1)    Skibbereen (2)    Slane (Be Thou My Vision)    Slievenamon   The Snowy Breasted Pearl    Spancil Hill    The Spanish Lady    The Spinning Wheel    Star of the County Down (1)    Star of the County Down (2)    Step It Out Mary    The Stone Outside Dan Murphy's Door   The Streets of New York   Sullivan's John    Summer In Dublin     T      Take Her Up To Monto (1)   Take Her Up To Monto (2)   Tara's Harp    They Never Came Home (Stardust Song)    The Thirty-Two Counties    This Land Is Your Land (1)   This Land Is Your Land (2)   This Land Is Your Land (3)   Three Leaf Shamrock   The Tinker   The Town I Loved So Well    Tri-Coloured Ribbon   'T Was Pretty To Be In Ballinderry      V      The Valley of Knockanure      W      Waxies Dargle    The Wearing of the Green    Weila Waila    The West's Awake    The Wexford Carol   When Irish Eyes Are Smiling    When You Were Sweet Sixteen   Where the River Shannon Flows   Where the Three Counties Meet   Whiskey In the Jar (1)    Whiskey In the Jar (2)    Whiskey You're the Devil    Whistling Gypsy    The Wild Colonial Boy    The Wild Rover    Will You Come To the Bower    The Winds Are Singing Freedom    The Wind That Shakes the Barley      Z      Zoological Gardens   

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Amhrán na bhFiann
[Translated into Irish by Liam O'Rinn
from Peadar Kearneys English text]

Sinne Fianna Fáil
Atá Fá gheall ag Éirinn
Buidhean dár sluagh tar rúinn do ráinig chughainn
Fámhoídh bheírh saor
Sean-tír ár sinnsear feasta
Ní fágfar fá'n tíorán ná fa'n tráil
Anocht a theigeamh sa bhearna baoghail
Le gean ar Gaedhí chun báis nó saoghail
Le gunna sgréach: Fá lamhach na piléar
Seo Libh canaidh amhrán na bhFiann

Seo dhibh a cháirde duan oglaidh
Caithréimeach, bríoghmhar, ceolmhar
Ár dteinte cnámh go buacach táid
'S an spéir go min réaltógach
Is fionmhar faobhrach sinn chun gleo
'S go tiúnmhar glé roimh tigheacht do'n ló
Fa ciúnas chaoimh na h-oidhche ar seol
Seo libh, canaídh amhrán na bhFiann

Cois banta réidhe, ar árdaibh sléibhe
Ba bhuadhach ár rinnsear romhainn
Ag lámhach go tréan fá'n sár- bhrat séin
Tá thuas sa ghaoith go seolta
Ba dhúthchas riamh d'ár gcine cháidh
Gan iompáil riar ó imirt áir
'Siubhal mar iad i gcoinnibh rámhaid
Seo libh, canaidh amhrán na bhFiann

A buidhean nach fann d'fuil Ghaoidheal is Gall
Sinn breacadh lae na saoirse
Tá sgéimhle 's sgannradh í gcroidhthibh namhad
Roimh ranngaibh laochra ár dtíre
Ár dteinte is tréith gan spréach anois
Sin luinne ghlé san spéir anoir
'S an bíodhbha i raon na bpiléar agaibh
Seo libh, canaidh amhrán na bhFiann

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A Soldier's Song
[Written in 1907 by Peadar Kearney, an uncle of Brendan Behan.
It was sung outside the GPO during the Easter Rising in 1916, and later at
various camps where republicans were interned, and was officially adopted as
the national anthem in 1926, replacing God Save Ireland]

We'll sing a song, a soldier's song
With cheering rousing chorus
As round our blazing fires we throng
The starry heavens o'er us
Impatient for the coming fight
And as we wait the morning's light
Here in the silence of the night
We'll chant a soldier's song

Soldiers are we
whose lives are pledged to Ireland
Some have come
from a land beyond the wave
Sworn to be free
No more our ancient sire land
Shall shelter the despot or the slave
Tonight we man the gap of danger
In Erin's cause, come woe or weal
'Mid cannons' roar and rifles peal
We'll chant a soldier's song

In valley green, on towering crag
Our fathers fought before us
And conquered 'neath the same old flag
That's proudly floating o'er us
We're children of a fighting race
That never yet has known disgrace
And as we march, the foe to face
We'll chant a soldier's song


Sons of the Gael! Men of the Pale!
The long watched day is breaking
The serried ranks of Inisfail
Shall set the Tyrant quaking
Our camp fires now are burning low
See in the east a silv'ry glow
Out yonder waits the Saxon foe
So chant a soldier's song


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Let grasses grow and waters flow in a free and easy way
But give me enough of the rare old stuff
that's made near Galway Bay
And policemen all from Donegal, Sligo and Leitrim too
We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip
of the real old mountain dew

There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill
Where the smoke curls up to the sky
By a whiff of the smell you can plainlyinly tell
That there's poteen boys close by
For it fills the air with a perfume rare
and betwixt both me and you
As home we roll, we can drink a bowl
Or a bucketful of mountain dew

Now learned men as use the pen have writ' the praises high
Of the rare poteen from Ireland green
Distilled from wheat and rye
Away with your pills, it'll cure all ills
Be ye pagan, Christian, or Jew
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucket of the mountain dew.

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Come all ye maidens young and fair
And you that are blooming in your prime
Always beware and keep your garden fair
Let no man steal away your thyme

For thyme it is a precious thing
And thyme brings all things to my mind
nlyme with all its flavours, along with all its joys
Thyme, brings all things to my mind

Once I and a bunch of thyme
i thought it never would decay
Then came a lusty sailor
Who chanced to pass my way
And stole my bunch of thyme away


The sailor gave to me a rose
A rose that never would decay
He gave it to me to keep me reminded
Of when he stole my thyme away


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From a county Mayo town came a man of great renown
As a sailor and a soldier was none bolder
He went to America at an early age they say
As a cabin boy to sail the wide world over

Then adventure took him south to the De La Plata mouth
San Martin was on the route in Argentina
So three whaling ships he bought and Brazil and Spain he fought
And freedom then he sought for Argentina

Now Admiral William Brown you're a man of courage shown
And in battles fought the odds were all against you
But your Irish heart was strong and in memory still lives on
And in Ireland there are some that don't forget you

On St. Patrick's day it's told you had many victories bold
You defeated all invaders thugs and bullys
Then through the Pampas rose and you found a happy home
"Las Islas Malvinas, Argentinas"

He had heard of Irish hands in noble gallant bands
That helped to free the land called Argentina
He had heard with great acclaim the Patricios name and fame
When in 1806 the British came for slaughter

And to this very day in the Argentine they say
The English ran away from Buenos Aires
To the islands further down and they took them for the crown
"Las Islas Malvinas, Argentinas"

We remember William Brown and his land of great renown
He, invader of the islands from your country
When in 1833 were by pirates forced to flee
And in Ireland sure we know the story fully

And the people that went too to the Argentine when new
To escape the English laws and wars and famine
They had proved a loyal crew just like all the Irish do
"Las Islas Malvinas, Argentinas"

The old colonial days and cruel English ways
With her thunder plunder we will teach the natives
For the Brits are going to war just like Whitelocke did  before
With her ships and guns and drums and flags and banners

In the Empire days of old when they murdered for gold
And paraded it around the streets of London
Oh no human rights were given to the natives dead or living
"Las Islas Malvinas, Argentinas"

In the Argentine he died Father Fahey by his side
'57 was the year his country mourned him
A hero of the nation he's remembered with elation
Throughout the world where freedom still abounds

And the Southern Cross take note where bold Willie Bullfin wrote
The Irish still support you Argentina
With the Empire tumbling down let no Paddies back the crown
"Las Islas Malvinas, Argentinas"

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[From Penguin Book of Canadian Folk Songs, Fowke.
In 1866, some 1200 Fenian troops, mostly from Meagher's Irish Brigade,
invaded Canada, crossing at Buffalo. The first Loyalist resistance
came from the Queen's Own Rifles, a Toronto-garrisoned force
consisting largely of young college gentlemen, and led by Colonel
Alfred Booker. The Loyalists were routed, in one of the Fenian's only

The Queen's Own Regiment was their name
From fair Toronto town they came
To put the Irish all to shame
The Queen's and Colonel Booker!

What fury fills each loyal mind!
No volunteer would stay behind
They flung their red rag to the wind
"Hurrah, my boys!" said Booker

Now helter skelter Ohio
See how they play that "heel and toe"!
See how they run from their Irish foe
The Queen's and Colonel Booker!

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Sure, a little bit o' Heaven fell from out of the sky one day
And nestled on the ocean in a spot so far away
And the angels found it, sure it looked so sweet and fair
They said suppose we leave it, for it looks so peaceful there!
So they sprinkled it with star dust, just to make the shamrocks grow

'Tis the only place you'll find them
No matter where you go
Then they dotted it with silver
To make its lakes so grand
And when they had it finished
Sure they called it Ireland!

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My love she was fair, and my love she was kind
And cruel the judge and jury that sentenced her away
For thieving was a thing that she never was inclined to
They sent my love across the sea ten thousand miles away

All around my hat, I will wear the green willow
All around my hat for a year and a day
And if anyone should question me the reason for my wearing it
I'll tell them that my own true love is ten thousand miles away

I bought my love a golden ring to wear upon her finger
A token of our own true love and to remember me
And when she returns again, we never will be parted
We'll marry and be happy for ever and a day


Seven, seven long years my love and I are parted
Seven, seven long years my love is bound to stay
Seven long years I'll love my love and never be false-hearted
And never sigh or sorrow while she's far, far away


Some young men there are who are preciously deceitful
A-coaxin' of the fair young maids they mean to lead astray
As soon as they deceive them, so cruelly they leave them
I'll love my love forever though she's far, far away


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Oh, my name is Jock Stewart, I'm a canny gaun man
And a roving young fellow I've been
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

I have acres of land, I have men of command
I have always a shilling to spare
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

So come fill up your glasses with brandy and wine
What ever it costs, I will pay
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

I took out my dog and my gun for to shoot
All down in the County Kildare
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

So come fill up your glasses with brandy and wine
What ever it costs, I will pay
So be easy and free, when you're drinking with me
I'm a man you don't meet every day

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An Irish boy was leaving
Leaving his native home
Crossing the broad Atlantic
Once more he wished to roam
And as he was leaving his mother
While standing on the Quay
He threw his arms around her waist
And this to her did say..

"A mother's love is a blessing
No matter where you roam
Keep her while she's living
You'll miss her when she's gone
Love her as in childhood
When feeble, old, and grey
For you'll never miss a mother's love
'Til she's buried beneath the clay"

And as the years grow onward
I'll settle down in life
And I'll choose a nice young colleen
And take her for my wife
And as the kids grow older
They'll play around my knee
And I'll teach them the very same lesson
That my mother taught to me

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In the days I went a courtin' I was never tired resortin'
To an alehouse or a playhouse and many's the house beside
But I told me brother Seamus I'd go off and be right famous
And I'd never would return again 'til  I'd roam the world wide

Goodbye Muirsheen Durkin sure I'm sick and tired of workin'
No more I'll dig the praties and no longer I'll be fooled
As sure as me name is Carney I'll be off to California
Where instead of diggin' praties I'll be diggin' lumps of gold

I've courted girls in Blarney in Kanturk and in Killarney
In Passage and in Queenstown that is the Cobh of Cork
Goodbye to all this pleasure I'll be off to take me leisure
And the next time that you hear from me will be a letter from New York

So it's goodbye Muirsheen Durkin I'm sick and tired of workin'
No more I'll dig the praties and no longer I'll be fooled
As sure as me name is Carney I'll be off to California
Where instead of diggin' praties I'll be diggin' lumps of gold

Goodbye to the girls at home I'm going far across the foam
To try and make me fortune in far America
There's gold and jewels in plenty for the poor and for the gentry
And when I return again I never more will say

Goodbye Muirsheen Durkin sure I'm sick and tired of workin'
No more I'll dig the praties and no longer I'll be fooled
For as sure as me name is Carney I'll be off to California
Where instead of diggin' praties I'll be diggin' lumps of gold

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

A nation once again,
A nation once again,
And Ireland, long a province, be
A Nation once again!

And from that time, through wildest woe,
That hope has shown a far light,
Nor could love's brightest summer glow
Outshine that solemn starlight;
It seemed to watch above my head
In forum, field and fame,
Its angel voice sang round my bed,
A Nation once again

A nation once again,
A nation once again,
And Ireland, long a province, be
A Nation once again!

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

A nation once again,
A nation once again,
And Ireland, long a province, be
A Nation once again!

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(Written by Eric Bogle)
[This song was written in 1972. Visit Eric Bogle's official homepage]

When I was a young man, I carried my pack
And I lived the free life of a rover
From the Murray's green basin to the dusty outback
I waltzed my matilda all over
Then in nineteen fifteen, my country said, "Son
It's time to stop ramblin' for there's work to be done"
So they gave me a tin hat, and they gave me a gun
And they sent me away to the war

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda"
As the ship sailed away from the quay
Amid all the tears, the flag-waving and cheers
We sailed off for Gallipoli

How well I remember that terrible day
When our blood stained the sand and the water
And how in that hell that they call Suvla Bay
We were butchered like lambs at the slaughter
Johnny Turk was ready, Lord he primed himself well
He rained us with bullets and he showered us with shells
In five minutes flat, we were all blown to hell
Nearly blew us back home to Australia

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda"
As we stopped to bury our slain
We buried ours and the Turks buried theirs
Then it started all over again

And those who were living just tried to survive
In that mad world of blood, death and, fire
For ten weary weeks, I kept myself alive
While around me the corpses piled higher
Then a big Turkish shell knocked me ass over head
And when I awoke, in a hospital bed
And saw what it had done, I wished I were dead
I never knew there were worse things than dying

For no more I'll go waltzing matilda
All around the green bush far and near
But to hunt and to pace, a man needs both legs
No more waltzing matilda for me

They collected the wounded, the crippled, the maimed
And they shipped us back home to Australia
The armless, the legless, the blind, the insane
All us proud wounded heroes from Suvla
And as the ship pulled into Circular Quay
And I looked at the place where my legs used to be
I thanked Christ there was no one there waiting for me
To grieve or to mourn or to pity

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda"
As they carried us down the gangway
This time nobody cheered, they just stood there and stared
Then they turned their faces away

And now every April, I sit on this porch
And I watch the parade pass before me
I see my old comrades, how proudly they march
Reliving their deeds of past glory
I see the old men all tired, stiff, and sore
The weary old heroes from a forgotten war
And the young people ask, "What are they marching for?"
And I ask myself the same question

And the band played "Waltzing Matilda"
And the old men still answer the call
But as year follows year, more old men disappear
Some day no one will march there at all

Waltzing Matilda, Waltzing Matilda
Who'll come a-waltzing matilda with me
And their ghosts can be heard, as they march by the billabong
"Who'll come a-waltzing matilda with me?"

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[The Titanic went down on the night of Monday 15th April 1912, 4 days after
leaving the last European port, Queenstown outside Cork (now the Cobh of Cork).
She was built at Harland and Wolff shipyards in Belfast.]

She left Southampton that April morn' in 1912
With more than 2000 on board on her maiden voyage to hell
The largest ship the world ever had seen, an excess of luxury
The unsinkable queen of the White Star Line, a place as safe as can be

She crossed the rough Atlantic when on sunday approached Cape Race
Where lots of ships the whole day long signalled "Beware of the ice!"
But Captain Smith he didn't care, the warnings went unheard
No galeforce wind, no heavy swell, no ice would make him turn

She was a queen and a virgin bride, a gorgeous precious maid
And the peaceful sun lay over the shelves on that glorious April day
She was a queen and a virgin bride when she fought the ocean brave
Until the ice cut deep in her soul and she sank to her watery grave

'Twas just before the midnight hour when passengers noticed a jerk
A wave or a whale they clueless thought, but an iceberg the ship badly hurt
The whole side was cut 'neath the waterline and torn apart line tin
The unsinkable queen tilted up to the left and water filled her up the the brim

For passengers and crew aboard the death throes now begun
There were only lifeboats for half of them, the others all had to drown
Ten miles away the California lay, so close to prevent the worst
But her crew lay asleep in the cabins there, not far away the bulkheads burst

2.20 a.m. that misty morn' in 1912
The gleaming gem of the White Star Line sank down in her seabed to dwell
'Bout 1500 lost their lives and rest in icy grave
Just 700 lucky ones remind them in their prayers

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Sure I've roamed this wide world over
But of all the lands I've seen
There's no spot I'd rather dwell in
Than my little isle of Green

Only last night I was dreamin'
Of a sight that thrilled me through
But what I saw I'll see no more
'twas too good to be true

Sure the shamrocks were growing on Broadway
Every girl was an Irish colleen
The town of New York was the county of Cork
All the buildings were painted green

Sure the Hudson looked just like the Shannon
Oh, how good and how real it did seem
I could hear me mother singin', sweet Shannon bells ringin'
'twas only an Irishman's dream

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In South Armagh there was a man who had a long-range gun
He said I'll show them Army boys there's nowhere they can run
He was the South Armagh sniper
He'd pick a spot and wait the whole day through
Until a brit patrol came into view

The Armagh sniper he never missed his mark
He was lethal in the daytime and deadly in the dark
If he gets you in his sights you'd better say your prayers
So British troops go home or else beware

Soon his reputation spread through Ulster like wildfire
The list of British casualties just kept on getting higher
It was the South Armagh sniper he made the British forces think again
About wandering at night through Crossmaglen

The Armagh sniper the brits were terrified
They could never pin him down no matter how they tried
If he gets you in his sights he'll make widows of your wives
So brits go home while you still have your lives

In London and in Dublin they pretend to speak of peace
They say give us your weapons and we'll make this bloodshed cease
But the south Armagh sniper he's heard their lies and double-talk before
He won't be fooled or cheated anymore

The Armagh sniper he hasn't gone away
His rifles oiled and loaded he's just waiting for the day
So if the British government should break their word well then
The sniper will go back to work again
I'm a-comin back boys

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I had a first cousin called Arthur McBride
and we went a-walking down by the seaside
Seeking good fortune and what might betide
for it being on Christmas morning

For recreation we went on a tramp
where we met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Crump
And a little wee drummer intending to camp
for the day being pleasant and charming
"Good morning, good morning" the sergeant did cry
"And the same to you gentlemen" we did reply
Intending no harm, we made to pass by
For it being on Christmas mornin'

Says he, "My fine fellows, if you will enlist
it's ten guineas I quickly will shove in your fist
And a crown in the bargain to kick off the dust
and to drink the king's health in the morning
For a soldier he leads a very fine life
and he always is blessed with a pretty young wife
And he pays all his debts without worry or strife
and always is pleasant and charming

And a soldier, he always is decent and clean
in the finest of clothes he is constantly seen
While other poor fellows are dirty and mean
and sup on thin gruel in the morning"

But says Arthur, I wouldn't be proud of your clothes
for you've only the lend of them, as I suppose
And you dare not remove them at night
for you know if you do, you'll be flogged in the morning

And although that we are single and free
we take great delight in our own company
And we have no desire strange faces to see
although your offers are charming
And we have no desire to take your advance
of hazards and dangers we'll barter our chance
For you have no scruples and will send us to France
where we'll surely be shot without warning

Oh now, says the sergeant, if I hear one more word
I instantly then will draw out my sword
And run through your bodies as strength can afford
So now you gay devils take warning!
But Arthur and me we took in the odds
and we gave them no chance for to lunge out their swords
Our trusty shillaleahs come over their heads
and bade them take that as fair warning

As for the wee drummer, we rifled his pouch
We made a football of his rowdy-dow-dow
Threw it in the tide for to rock and to roll
and bade it a tedious returning
And as for the rapiers that hung at their sides
we flung them as far as would could in the tide
To the devil I bid you, cried Arthur McBride
and temper their steel in the morning

I had a first cousin called Arthur McBride
and we went a-walking down by the seaside
Seeking good fortune and what might betide
For it being on Christmas morning

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A Stór Mo Chroí, when you're far away
From the home you will soon be leaving
And its many's the time by night and day
Your heart will sorely be grieving

Though the stranger's land is rich and fair
And rich in treasures golden
You'll pine I know, for the long, long ago
And the love that's never olden

A Stór Mo Chroí, in the stranger's land
There is plenty of wealth and earnings
Gold and gems adorn the rich and the grand
And there are faces with hunger tearing

Though the road is weary and hard to thread
And the lights of their cities may blind you
You'll turn A Stór for Erin's shore
And the ones you left behind you

A Stór Mo Chroí when evening sun
Over mountains meadows is falling
Won't you turn away from the throng and listen
And maybe you'll hear me calling

Though the voice you'll hear is surely mine
For someone's speedy returning
A roon a roon -- won't you come home soon
To the one who will always love you

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(Bobby Sands)

In 1803 we sailed out to sea
Out from the sweet town of Derry
For Australia bound if we didn't all drown
And the marks of our fetters we carried
In rusty iron chains we sighed for our wains
Our good women we left in sorrow
As the mainsails unfurled, our curses we hurled
On the English, and thoughts of tomorrow

Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh..... I wish I was back home in Derry

At the mouth of the Foyle, bid farewell to the soil
As down below decks we were lying
O'Doherty screamed, woken out of a dream
By a vision of bold Robert dying
The sun burned cruel as we dished out the gruel
Dan O'Connor was down with a fever
Sixty rebels today bound for Botany Bay
How many will meet their receiver

I cursed them to hell as her bow fought the swell
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelight
White horses rode high as the devil passed by
Taking souls to Hades by twilight
Five weeks out to sea, we were now forty-three
Our comrades we buried each morning
And in our own slime we were lost in a time
Of endless nights without dawning

Van Diemen's land is a hell for a man
To live out his whole life in slavery
Where the climate is raw and the gun makes the law
Neither wind nor rain care for bravery
Twenty years have gone by, I've ended my bond
My comrades ghosts walk behind me
A rebel I came - I'm still the same
On the cold winters night you will find me

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[Words by Thomas Hodge, a school master from Ballyroan,
written in the late 19th century. Melody by Chris Andretti.]

I love the sunny shores of France
I love the Italian skies
Where beauty beams o'er fields and streams
And nature reigns sublime
I love the Alps, the winding Rhine
The classic Po and Rhone
But ten times more do I adore
The skies o'er Ballyroan

The golden sun ne'er shone upon
A sweeter little town
The purling rill that runs the mill
Through hazel shades runs down
The moat (motte), high crowned with noble trees
Its origins unknown
Its silver grays illumes the place
For miles round Ballyroan

The chapel spire high over all
Points to the crystal sky
The vesper's chimes proclaim the time
When evening worships night
And home the hearty workman hikes
His hour of toil now flown
With songs of cheer and Scully's beer
Enlivens Ballyroan

Oh, Bally Roan, me native home
With grief my heart is sore
Within my breastand you oppressed
I'd act the hero's part
If I should fall for Ireland's cause
Like Emmett and Wolfe Tone
Then my last sigh to God on high
Would be for Ballyroan

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Oh list' to the tale of a poor Irish harper
And scorn not the string of his old withered hands
But remember those fingers they once could move sharper
To raise up the strains of his dear native land

It was long before the shamrock, dear isle's lovely emblem
Was crushed in its beauty by the Saxon's lion paw
And all the pretty colleens around me would gather
Call me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh

How I love to muse on the days of my boyhood
Though four score and three years have fled by them
It's king's sweet reflection that every young joy
For the merry-hearted boys make the best of old men

At a fair or a wake I would twist my shillelah
And trip through a dance with my brogues tied with straw
There all the pretty maidens around me would gather
Call me their bold Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh

In truth I have wandered this wide world over
Yet Ireland's my home and a dwelling for me
And, oh, let the turf that my old bones shall cover
Be cut from the land that is trod by the free

And when Sergeant Death in his cold arms doth embrace
And lull me to sleep with old Erin go bragh
By the side of my Kathleen, my dear pride, oh place me
Then forget Phelim Brady, the Bard of Armagh

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From East to West, from North to South,
They tried to hunt the column out
But the tans were forced to go without
The boys of Barry's Column

In armoured cars they came to stay,
And wipe the Irish cowards away
But oh, the lovely holiday
Was stopped by Barry's Column


Oh but isn't great to see
The Tommies and the R.I.C
The black and tans and the Staters flee
Away from Barry's Column

By, George might have some wiley tricks
And have the volunteers to fix
Yet all his black and tans go sick
When they think of Barry's Column

His ships all come in red and black,
No tanks or war equipment lack
Yet o'er the sea, they'll ne'er get back
If caught by Barry's Column

[Chorus repeat]

Along the lonely road they wind
Armed in front, and armed behind
"We're sorry, but that bridge is mine"
Said the lads of Barry's Column

They stopped to rest just for a spell
Some hand-grenades upon them fell
"Here sort them out among yourselves"
Said the lads from Barry's Column

[Chorus repeat]

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Craig Adams sent the Specials out to shoot the people down
He thought the IRA were dead in dear old Belfast town
But he got a rude awakening with the rifle and grenade
When he met the 1st Battalion of the Belfast Brigade

Glory, glory to old Ireland, glory, glory to this island
Glory to the memories of the men who fought and dies
"No surrender" is the war cry of the Belfast Brigade

The soldiers came from Holywood equipped with English guns
They had men by the thousands, ammunition by the ton
But when they got to Belfast they were seriously waylaid
By the Fighting 1st Battalion of the Belfast Brigade


We have no ammunition or no armoured tanks to show
But we're ready to defend ourselves no matter where we go
We're out for our Republic and to hell with your free state
"No surrender" is the war cry of the Belfast Brigade


Come all ye gallant Irishmen and join the IRA
To strike a blow for freedom when there comes our certain day
You know our countries history and the sacrifice it made
Come join the 1st Battalion of the Belfast Brigade


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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

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There were six men in Birmingham, in Guildford there's four
That were picked up and tortured and framed by the law
And the filth got promotion, but they're still doing time
For being Irish in the wrong place and at the wrong time

In Ireland they'll put you away in the Maze
In England they'll keep you for several long days
God help you if ever you're caught on these shores
And the coppers need someone and they walk through that door

You'll be counting years, first five, then ten -growing old
in a lonely hell round the yard and the stinking cell

From wall to wall, and back again, a curse on the judges
The coppers and screws who tortured the innocent
Wrongly accused, for the price of promotion and justice to sell
May the judged be their judges when they rot down in hell

May the whores of the empire lie awake in their beds
And sweat as they count out the sins on their heads
While over in Ireland eight more men lie dead
Kicked down and shot in the back of the head

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It was down in the town of old Bantry
Where most of the fighting was done
It was there that a young Irish soldier
Was shot by a Black-and-Tan gun

As he raised himslef up to his elbow
As the blood from his wounds ran red
He turned to his comrades beside him
And these are the words he said:

"Won't you bury me out on the mountains
So that I can see where the battle was won?" 
So they buried him out on the mountains
'Neath a cross that stood facing the sun

They wrote: "Here lies a true Irish soldier
Who was shot by a Black-and-Tan gun"
And now we are back in old Dublin, our victory over and won
We think of our comrades we buried under God's rising sun

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I was born on a Dublin street where the Royal drums do beat
And the loving English feet they tramped all over us
And each and every night when me father'd come home tight
He'd invite the neighbors outside with this chorus

Oh, come out you black and tans Come out and fight me like a man
Show your wife how you won medals down in Flanders
Tell them how the IRA made you run like hell away
From the green and lovely lanes of Killeshandra

Come let me hear you tell how you slammed the great Parnell
When you fought them well and truely persecuted
Where are the smears and jeers that you bravely let us hear
When our heros of sixteen were executed

Come tell us how you slew those brave arabs two by two
Like the zulu's they had spears and bows and arrows
How you bravely slew each one with your sixteen pounder gun
And you frightened them poor natives to their marrow

The day is coming fast and the time is here at last
When each yeoman will be cast aside before us
And if there be a need sure my kids will sing Gods speed
With a verse of two of Steven Beehan's chorus

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Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She's the sweetest face and the gentlest hands
I love the ground wheron she stands

I love my love and well she knows
I love the ground whereon she goes
But some times I whish the day will come
That she and I will be as one

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She's the sweetest face and the gentlest hands
I love the ground wheron she stands

I walk to the Clyde for to mourn and weep
But satisfied I never can sleep
I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines
And suffer death ten thousand times

Black is the colour of my true love's hair
Her lips are like some roses fair
She's the sweetest face and the gentlest hands
I love the ground wheron she stands

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[Van Diemen's Land was named after the Dutchman who discovered it, later it
was renamed Tasmania. It is an island south of the Australian mainland. Many
people were transported there by the British often for petty crimes.]

In a neat little town they call Belfast
Apprentice to trade I was bound
And many an hour of sweet happiness
I spent in that neat little town
Till bad misfortune befell me
And caused me to stray from the land
Far away from my friends and relations
To follow the black velvet band

And her eyes they shone like diamonds
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up with a black velvet band

I took a stroll down Broadway, meaning not long for to stay
When who should I meet but this pretty fair maid comes a tripping along the highway
She was both fair and handsome, her neck it was just like a swans
And her hair it hung over her shoulder, tied up with a black velvet band

And her eyes they shone like diamonds
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up with a black velvet band

I took a stroll with this pretty fair maid, when a gentleman's passing us by
Well I knew she meant the doing of him, by the look in her rougish black eye
A goldwatch she took from his pocket and placed it right into my hand
And the very first thing that I said was bad luck to your black velvet band 

And her eyes they shone like diamonds
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up with a black velvet band

Before the judge and the jury, next morning I had to appear
The judge he says to me: Young man, your case it is proven clear
I'll give you seven years penal servitude, to be spent faraway from the land
Far away from your friends and companions, betrayed by the black velvet band

And her eyes they shone like diamonds
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up with a black velvet band

So come all ye jolly young fellows a warning take by me
When you are out on the town me lads, beware of them pretty colleens
For they feed you with whiskey and porter, 'til you are unable to stand
And the very next thing that you'll know you're landed in Van Diemens land

And her eyes they shone like diamonds
You'd think she was queen of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulder
Tied up with a black velvet band

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Says Lloyd-George to Macpherson, "I'll give you the sack
To uphold law and order you haven't the knack
I'll send over Greenwood, a much stronger man
And fill up the Green Isle with the bold Black and Tan"

He sent them all over to pillage and loot
And burn down the houses, the inmates to shoot
"To re-conquer Ireland, he said, is my plan
With Macready and Co. and his bold Black and Tan"

The town of Balbriggan they've burned to the ground
While bullets Like hailstones were whizzing around
And women left homeless by this evil clan
They've waged war on the children, the bold Black and Tan

From Dublin to Cork and from Thurles to Mayo
Lies a trail of destruction wherever they go
With England to help and fierce passions to fan
She must feel bloody proud of her bold Black and Tan

Ah, then not by the terrors of England's foul horde
For ne'er could a nation be ruled by the sword
For our country we'll have yet in spite of her plan
Or ten times the number of bold Black and Tan

We defeated Conscription in spite of their threats
And we're going to defeat old Lloyd-George and his pets
For Ireland and Freedom we're here to a man
And we'll humble the pride of the bold Black and Tan

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'Twas down by the glenside, I met an old woman
She was picking young nettles and she scarce saw me coming
I listened awhile to the song she was humming
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men

'Tis fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming
On strong manly forms and their eyes with hope gleaming
I see them again, sure, in all my daydreaming
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men

Some died on the glenside, some died near a stranger
And wise men have told us that their cause was a failure
They fought for old Ireland and they never feared danger
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men

I passed on my way, God be praised that I met her
Be life long or short, sure I'll never forget her
We may have brave men, but we'll never have better
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men

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Here I am from Paddy's land, a land of high renown
I broke the hearts of all the girls from miles of Keady town
And when they hear that I'm away' they raise a hullabaloo
When they hear about the handsome lad they call O'Donahue

For I'm the boy to please her and I'm the boy to tease her
And I'm the boy to squeeze her up and I'll tell you what I'll do
I'll court her like an Irishman with me brogue and blarney too is me plan
With me rollikin', swollikin', gollikin', wollikin', Bold O'Donahue

I wish me love was a red red rose grown' on yon garden wall
And me to be dewdrop and upon her brow I'd fall
Perhaps now she might think of me as a rather heavy dew
No more she'd love the handsome lad they call O'Donahue

They say that Queen Victoria has a daughter fine and grand
Perhaps she'd take it into her head for to marry an Irishman
And if I could only get the chance to have a word or two
Perhaps she'd take a notion in the bold O'Donahue

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The struggle is over, the boys are defeated
Old Ireland's surrounded with sadness and gloom
We were defeated and shamefuIIy treated
And I, Robert Emmet, awaiting my doom

Hung, drawn and quartered, sure that was my sentence
But soon I will show them no coward am I
My crime is the love of the land I was born in
A hero I lived and a hero I'll die

Bold Robert Emmet, the darling of Ireland
Bold Robert Emmet will die with a smile
Farewell companions both loyal and daring
I'll lay down my life for the Emerald Isle

The barque lay at anchor awaiting to bring me
Over the billows to the land of the free
But I must see my sweetheart for I know she will cheer me
And with her I will sail far over the sea


But I was arrested and cast into prison
Tried as a traitor, a rebel, a spy
But no man can call me a knave or a coward
A hero I lived and a hero I'll die


Hark! I the bell's tolling, I well know its meaning
My poor heart tells me it is my death knell
In come the clergy, the warder is leading
I have no friends here to bid me farewell
Goodbye, old Ireland, my parents and sweetheart
Companions in arms to forget you must try
I am proud of the honour, it was only my duty
A hero I lived and a hero I'll die


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One evening of late into Bandon I strayed
I was bound for Clonakilty I was making me way
At Ballinishcarthy some time I delayed
For to wet me auld whistle with porter

Tithery-ow-tow, tithery-ow-tow
Tithery-ow-tow-tow-tum :
Tithery-ow-tah-den, tithery-ow-tow
Tithery-ow-tah-den, doodle-e-darrow

Well I spate in me fist and I picked up me stick
And up the coach road like a deer I did skip
For I care not for bailiff landlord or auld Nick
And sang like a lark in the morning

Well I scarcely had travelled one mile of the road
When I heard a dispute in a farmers abode
The son of the landlord an ill looking toad
And the wife of the bold tenant farmer

He said what the devil's come over you all?
Not one penny of rent at each time that I call
By next October I'll settle you all
For you'll have the high road for your garden

"A robber" the bold tenants wife she replied
"You're as bad as your daddy on the other side
But the National Land League will put down your pride
For they're able to bear every storm

Its branches extend to country and town
Protecting the tenants, their houses and ground
I owe you twelve months and I'll give you one pound
If you clear our receipts in the morning

When she spoke of the Land League his lips they grew pale
Saying "What good have you done but be stuck into jail
And the rent that you owe you must pay by next gale
And believe me, we'll give you no quarter

Your husband I saw in the town just last night
Drinking and shouting for poor tenants rights
But the month of October we'll put you to flight
To follow your friends o'er the water

If my husband was drinking what has that to do?
I'd rather he'd drink it than give it to you
Now make up you mind for you won't get a chew
For wet marshy land is no bargain

We all joined the Land League on last New Years Day
And I think, in my heart, we're not going astray
While the clergy are with us we'll carry the sway
Now marshalling all in good order

"Here's to Father O'Leary the pride of our isle
He's the boy that can title you ruffians in style
John Dillon and Davitt who rank in their file
Take care you don't tread on their corns

Then I stepped out from the bush where I lay
And as he passed by me I heard him to say
"I wish to my God I was ten miles away
From the wife of the bold tenant farmer"

I shouted "Hurrah" and she shouted "Huroo"
He showed his back and like lightning he flew
Saying "God save the Land League and old Ireland too
Agus fagáimead siúd mar atá sé

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Here's a health to you, bonnie Kellswater
For it's there you'll find the pleasures of life
And it's there you'll find fishing and farming
And a bonnie wee girl for your wife

On the hills and the glens and the valleys
Grows the softest of women so fine
And the flowers are all dripping with honey
There lives Martha, a true love of mine

Bonnie Martha, you're the first girl I courted
You're the one put my heart in a snare
And if ever I should lose you to another
I will leave my Kellswater so fair

For this one and that one may court her
But no other can take her from me
For I love her as I love my Kellswater
Like the primrose is loved by the bee

Here's a health to you, bonnie Kellswater
For it's there you'll find the pleasures of life
And it's there you'll find fishing and farming
And a bonnie wee girl for your wife

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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 rock with a warning cry:
"Arm! Arm!" he cried, "For I've come to lead you
for Ireland's freedom we'll fight or die!"

He lead us on against 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 every kingdom where breathes a slave
For Father Murphy of 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 Slieve Coilte our pikes were reeking
With the crimson blood 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 burnt his body upon a 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

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Come all you warriors and renowned nobles
Give ear unto my warlike theme
And I will sing you how Father Murphy
Lately aroused from his sleepy dream
Neither Julius Cesar norAlexander
Nor brave King Arthur could equal him
Armies formidable he did conquer
Though with two gun men he did begin

Camolin cavalry he did unhorse them
Their first lieutenant he cut them down
With shattered ranks and with broken columns
They soon returned to Camolin town
On the hill of Oulart he displayed his valour
Where a hundred Corkmen lay on the plain
At Enniscorthy his sword he wielded
And I hope to see him once more again

When Enniscorthy became subject to him
Twas then to Wexford we marched our men
And on the Three Rock took up our quarters
Waiting for daylight the town to win
The loyal townsmen gave their assistance
We'll die or conquer they all did say
The yeomen cavalry made no resistance
For on the pavement their corpses lay

With drums a-beating the town did echo
And acclamations came from door to door
On the Windmill Hill we pitched our tents
And we drank like heroes but paid no score
On Carraig Rua for some time we waited
And next to Gorey we did repair
At Tubberneering we thought no harm
The bloody army was waiting there

The issue of it was a close engagement
While on the soldiers we played warlike pranks
Thro' sheepwalks, hedgerows and shdy thickets
There were mangled bodies and broken ranks
The shuddering cavalry I can't forget them
We raised the brushes on their helmets straight
They turned about and they bid for Dublin
As if they ran for a ten-pound plate

Some crossed Donnybrook and more through Blackrock
And some up Shankill without wound or flaw
And if Barry Lawless be not a liar
There's more went groaning up Luggelaw
To the Windmill Hill of Enniscorthy
The British Fencibles they fled like deers
But our ranks were tattered and sorely scattered
By the loss of Kyan and the Shelmaleers

The streets of England were left quite naked
Of all its army both foot and horse
The highlands of Scotland were left unguarded
Likewise the Hessians the seas they crossed
But if the Frenchmen had reinforced us
And landed transports in Bagenbun
Father John Murphy would be their seconder
And sixteen thousand with him would come

Success attend the sweet County Wexford
Throw off its yoke and to battle run
Let them not think we gave up our arms
For every man has a pike and gun

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Collected from Duke Tritton by John Meredith. Tritton learned the song while
busking in Sydney early 1900's. He also wrote the last verse. Second verse
is from Therese Radic's Songs of Australian Working Life

Oh I'm on my way down to the quay
Where a big ship now does lie
For to take a gang of navvies
I was told to engage
But I thought I would call in for a while
Before I went away
For to take a trip in an emigrant ship
To the shores of Botany Bay

Farewell to your bricks and mortar
Farewell to your dirty lime
Farewell to your gangway and gang planks
And to hell with your overtime
For the good ship Ragamuffin
She is lying at the quay
For to take old Pat with a shovel on his back
To the shores of Botany Bay

The best years of our life we spend
At working on the docks
Building mighty wharves and quays
Of earth and ballast rocks
Our pensions keep our lives secure
But I'll not rue the day
When I take a trip on an emigrant ship
To the shores of Botany Bay

For the boss came up this morning
And he said "Well Pat hello
If you do not mix that mortar fast
Be sure you'll have to go"
Of course he did insult me
I demanded of my pay
And I told him straight I was going to emigrate
To the shores of Botany Bay

And when I reach Australia
I'll go and look for gold
Sure there's plenty there for the digging
Or so I have been told
Or I might go back into my trade
Eight hundred bricks I'll lay
In an eight hour day for eight bob pay
On the shores of Botany Bay

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There's one fair county in Ireland
With memories so glorious and grand
Where nature has lavished its beauty
In the orchards of Erin's green land
I love it's cathederal city
Once founded by Patrick so true
And it bears in the heart of it's bosom
The ashes of Brian Boru

It's my own Irish home
Far across the foam
Although I've oft times left it
In foreign lands to roam
No matter where I wander
Through cities near or far
My heart is at home in old Ireland
In the County of Armagh

I've traveled that part of the County
Through Newtown, Forkhill, Crossmaglen
Around the Gap of Mount Norris
And home by Baclwater again
Where the girls are so gay and so hearty
None fairer you'll find near or far
But where are the boys that can court them
Like the boys from the County Armagh


The noble and the brave have departed from our shore
They've gone off to a foreign land where the wild canyons roar
No more they'll see the shamrock, the plant so dear to me
Or hear the small birds singing around sweet Tralee


No more the sun will shnine on that blessed harvest morn
Or hear our reaper singing in a golden field of corn
There's a band for every woe and a cure for every pain
But the happiness of my darling girl I never will see again


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You've in history's pages
the heroes of great fame
The deeds they done, the battles won
and how they made their name
But the boys that mad the history
for the orange, white and green
were the boys who died in Dublin Town
in nineteen sixteen

So meet the boys from Kerry
and meet the boys form Clare
from Dublin, Wicklow, Donegal
and the boys of old Kildare
Some came from a land beyond the sea
from Boston and New York
But the boys who beat the Black and Tans
were the boys from the County Cork

Now Cork gave us Mick Sweeney
a martyr for to die
And Wicklow gave us Dwyer
in days so long gone by
And Dublin gave us Padraig Pearse
McBride and Cathal Brugha
And America gave us de Valera
to lead old Ireland through

So meet the boys from Kerry
and meet the boys form Clare
from Dublin, Wicklow, Donegal
and the boys of old Kildare
Some came from a land beyond the sea
from Boston and New York
But the boys who beat the Black and Tans
were the boys from the County Cork

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Far away from the land of the Shamrock and heather
In search of a living, as exiles we roam
But whenever we chance to assemble together
We think of the land where we once had a home:
But these homes are destroyed and our soil confiscated
The hand of the tyrant brought plunder and woe;
The fires are now quenched and our hearts desolated
In our once happy homes in the County Mayo

Long years have now passed since with hearts full of sorrow
The of the Shamrock we left far behind;
But how we would like to go back there to-morrow;
To the scenes of our youth, which we still bear in mind;
The days of our childhood, it's now we recall them
They cling to our vision wherever we go;
And the friends of our youth we will never forget them
They too ar exiled from the County Mayo

From historic Killala, from Swinford to Calla
Ballyhaunis and Westport and old Castlebar
Kiltimagh and Claremorris, Belmullet and Erris
Kilkelly and Knock that's famed near and far;
Balla, Ballinrobe, Ballina and Bohola
Keeloges and Foxford a few miles below
Newport and Cong with old Straide and Manulla
Charlestown too, in the County Mayo

Then on with the cause 'till our aim is accomplished
Those who would fault us are cowardly and mean
So stand in the fight 'till the tyrant is vanquished
Expelled from our Dear little Island of Green
With the foes of our land we have fought a long battle
Soon they will get their last death-dealing blow
When old Nick has received them, their brains he will rattle
For the wrongs they have done to the County Mayo

From Galway to Dublin, from Derry to Kerry
New York and 'Frisco and Boston also
In Pittsburg, Chicago, Detroit and Toronto
There are stout-hearted men from the County Mayo
Now boys, pull together in all sorts of weather
Don't show the white feather, wherever you go
Act each as a brother and help one another
Like true hearted men from the County Mayo
The Bogman's Pipe

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The smell on Patrick's Bridge is wicked
How does Faher Matthew stick it?
Here's up them all says the boys of Fair hill

Come boys, spend a day with our Harrier Club so gay:
The cry of the hounds it will make your heart thrill
And, when you hear Conan Doyle say: the Amoured Car has won today,"
Here's up 'em all say the boys of Fair Hill

First you go to Fahy's well for a drink of pure clean water
The finest spot on earth sure the angels do say
Where thousands came across the foam, just to view the Blarney Stone
Which can be seen from the groves of Fair Hill

First you go to Quinlan's pub - that is where you join our club
Where around us in gallons the porter does flow
First they tap a half-a-tierce and drink a health to Dashwood's race;
That's the stuff to give 'em say the boys of Fair Hill

Come boys and spend a day with our Hurling Club so gay
The clash of the ash it will make your heart thrill;
The Rockies thought that they were stars, till they meet the Saint Finbarr's
Here's up 'em all say the boys of Fair Hill

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Oh the Boys of Kilkenny are brave roaring blades
And if ever they meet with the nice little maids
They'll kiss them and coax them and spend their money free
And of all towns in Ireland Kilkenny for me
And of all towns in Ireland Kilkenny for me
Fal de ral de ral de ral de ral lal ra la la lo

In the Town of Kilkenny there runs a clear stream
In the Town of Kilkenny there lives a pretty dame
Her lips are like roses,  and her mouth much the same
Like a dish of fresh strawberries smother'd in cream
Fal de ral de ral de ral de ral lal ra la la lo

Her Eyes are as black as Kilkennys large coal
Which thro' my poor bosom have burnt a big hole
Her mind like its river is mild clear and pure
But her heart is more hard nor its marble I'm sure
Fal de ral de ral de ral de ral lal ra la la lo

Kilkenny's a pretty town and shines where it stands
And the more I think on it, the more my heart warms
For, if I was in Kilkenny I'd think myself at home
For it's there I'd get sweethearts, but here I get none
Fal de ral de ral de ral de ral lal ra la la lo

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There are wild and rocky hills on the coast of Donegal
And the fishermen are hearty, brave and free
and the big atlantic swell
is a thing they know right well
as they fight to make their living from the sea

With a pleasant rolling sea and the herring running free
and our ships all gliding Gently through the foam
when the boats are loaded down
there'll be singing in the town
when the boys of killybegs come rollin home

Now you're headed out to sea and the wind is blowing free
and you cast your nets as rain begins to fall
and the clouds are riding high and the wind will soon blow by
and today you'll amybe get your bumper haul


Well the weather's very rough and the work gets plenty touth
and the ropes will raise the welts upon your hands
but you'll never leave the sea
for whoever you may be
when it's in your blood it's hard to live on land


Now there's purple on the hills and there's green down by the shore
and the sun has cast it's gold upon the sea
and there's silver down below where the herring fishes go
if we catch them there'll be gold for you and me

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[On 28th November 1920 a force of 18 Auxiliaries (military
part of Royal Irish Constabulary) were killed in an ambush at
Kilmichael in County Cork, by a Flying Column of the IRA, led
by 22 year old Tom Barry.]

On the twentyeighth day of November
the day that the tans left Macroom
they were loaded in two Crossley tenders
not knowing that they'd meet their doom
But when they came to Kilmichael
they suddenly came to a stop
for they met with the boys of the column
who made a clean sweep of the lot

Then over the hills went the echo
the peal of the rifle and gun
the flames from the lorries gave tidings
that the boys from Kilmichael had won

So here's to the boys of Kilmichael
those brave lads so gallant and true
who fought 'neath the green flag of Erin
and conquered the red, white and blue

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"Oh father, why are you so sad, on this bright Easter morn?
When Irishmen are proud and glad
Of the land where they were born."
"Oh, son, I see sad mem'ries view
Of far-off distant days
When, being just a boy like you
I joined the I.R.A.

Where are the lads who stood with me
When history was made?
Oh, gra mo chroi I long to see
The Boys of the Old Brigade

In hills and farms the call to arms
Was heard by one and all
And from the glens came brave young men
To answer Ireland's call
'Twas long ago we faced the foe
The old brigade and me
But by my side they fought and died
That Ireland might be free


And now, my boy, I've told you why
On Easter morn I sigh
For I recall my comrades all
From dark old days gone by
I think of men who fought in glens
With rifles and grenade
May Heaven keep the men who sleep
From the ranks of the old brigade


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As I went a walkin' one mornin' in spring
I met with some travelers in an old country lane
One was an old man, the second a maid
And the third was a young boy who smiled as he said

We've the wind in the willows, and the birds in the sky
We've a bright sun to warm us, where ever we lie
We have bread and fishes and a jug of red wine
To share on our journey with all of mankind

I sat down beside them, the flowers all around
And we ate on a mantle spread out on the ground
They told me of prophets and princes and kings
And they spoke of the one god who knows everything

I asked them to tell me their name and their race
So I might remember their kindness and grace
"My name is Joseph, this is Mary my wife
And this is our young son, our pride and delight"

We travel the whole world, by land and by sea
To tell all the people how they might be free

Sadly, I left them, in an old country lane
For I knew that I never would see them again
One was an old man, the second a maid
And the third was a young boy who smiled as he said:

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'Tis of a brave young highwayman
This story I will tell
His name was Willie Brennan
And in Ireland he did dwell
It was on the Kilwood Mountain
He commenced his wild career
And many a wealthy nobleman
Before him shook with fear 

It was Brennan on the moor
Brennan on the moor
Bold, brave and undaunted
Was young Brennan on the moor 

One day upon the highway
As young Willie he went down
He met the mayor of Cashiell
A mile outside of town
The mayor he knew his features
And he said, Young man, said he
Your name is Willie Brennan
You must come along with me

It was Brennan on the moor
Brennan on the moor
Bold, brave and undaunted
Was young Brennan on the moor 

Now Brennan's wife had gone to town
Provisions for to buy
And when she saw her Willie
She commenced to weep and cry
Said, Hand to me that tenpenny
As soon as Willie spoke
She handed him a blunderbuss
From underneath her cloak

It was Brennan on the moor
Brennan on the moor
Bold, brave and undaunted
Was young Brennan on the moor 

Now with this loaded blunderbuss
The truth I will unfold
He made the mayor to tremble
And he robbed him of his gold
One hundred pounds was offered
For his apprehension there
So he, with horse and saddle
To the mountains did repair

It was Brennan on the moor
Brennan on the moor
Bold, brave and undaunted
Was young Brennan on the moor

Now Brennan being an outlaw
Upon the mountains high
With cavalry and infantry
To take him they did try
He laughed at them with scorn
Until at last 'twas said
By a false-hearted woman
He was cruelly betrayed

It was Brennan on the moor
Brennan on the moor
Bold, brave and undaunted
Was young Brennan on the moor

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Oh Bridgit O’Malley, you left my heart shaken
With a hopeless desolation, I’d have you to know
It’s the wonders of admiration your quiet face has taken
And your beauty will haunt me wherever I go

The white moon above the pale sands, the pale stars above the thorn tree
Are cold beside my darling, but no purer than she
I gaze upon the cold moon till the stars drown in the warm sea
And the bright eyes of my darling are never on me

My Sunday it is weary, my Sunday it is grey now
My heart is a cold thing, my heart is a stone
All joy is dead within me, my life has gone away now
For another has taken my love for his own

The day it is approaching when we were to be married
And it’s rather I would die than live only to grieve
Oh meet me, my Darling, e’er the sun sets o’er the barley
And I’ll meet you there on the road to Drumslieve

Oh Bridgit O’Malley, you’ve left my heart shaken
With a hopeless desolation, I’d have you to know
It’s the wonders of admiration your quiet face has taken
And your beauty will haunt me wherever I go

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In the jail that held McSwiney, in that prison where he died
There lie two daughters of old Ireland and they fill my heart with pride
For I know England wishes that we'd let them die alone
But the voice of Dear old Ireland cries for us to bring them home

Here it ring in the air, it's the voice of my country so fair
Can't you feel? Can't you see? Irishmen will set them free

'Twas for loving dear old Ireland brought them to their prison hell
But the ghost of Pearse and Connolly fill there lonely prison cell
Clarke and Plunkett stand beside them McDonagh, McDermott and Wolfe Tone
But the voice of Dear old Ireland cries for us to bring them home

So I pray young men of Ireland Don't betray our daughters true
Proudly stand behind our heroes blessed they died for you and me
Though the tyrant would deny us we can break their hearts of stone
And all the voices will be singing when we bring our daughters home

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There's a uniform that's hanging
In what's known as Father's room
A uniform so simple in it's style
It has no braid of gold or silk
no hat with feathered plumes
Yet Mother has preserved it all the while
One day she made me try it on
a wish of mine for years
"In memory of your father, Sean" she said.
And when I put the Sam Browne on
she was smiling with the tears
As she placed the broad black brimmer on my head.

It's just a broad black brimmer
With its ribbons frayed and torn
By the careless whisk of many a mountain breeze
An old trench coat that's battle stained and worn
And breeches almost threadbare at the knees
A Sam Browne belt, with a buckle big and strong
A holster that's been empty many a day... but not for long!
And when men claim Ireland's freedom
The one they'll choose to lead 'em
Will wear the broad black brimmer of the IRA

It was the uniform been worn by my father years ago
When he reached me mother's homestead on the run
It was the uniform me father wore
in that little church below
When oul' Father Mac he blessed the pair as one
And after Truce and Treaty and the parting of the ways
He wore it when he marched out with the rest
And when they bore his body down the rugged heather braes
They placed the broad black brimmer on his breast

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Buachaill ón Éirne mé's bhréagfainn cailín deas óg
Ní fhiarfainn bó spré léi, táimse féin saibhir go leor
'S liom Corcaigh dá mhéad é, is dhá thaobh a' ghleanna, 's Tír Eoghain
'S mura n-aithraigh mé béasa's mé an t-aidhir ar chontae Mhuigheo

Rachfaidh mé amárach ag déanamh leanna fán choill
Gan coite, gan bád, gan gráinín breac ar bith liom
Ach duilliúr na gcraobh mar éadaigh leaba ós mo chionn
's óró sheacht m'anam déag thú, 's tú ag féachaint orm anall

Buachailleacht bó, mo leo, nár chleacht mise riamh
Ach ag imirt 's ag ól le h-ógmhná deasa ón sliabh
Má chaill mé mo stór, ní móide gur chaill mé mo chiall
Is ní mó liom do phóg ná an bhróg atáim ag caitheamh le bliain

A chúisle 's a stór, ná pós an seanduine liath
Ach pós an fear óg, mo leo, mura maire sé ach bliain
Nó beidh tú go fóill gan uadh nó mac ós do chionn
A shílfeadh aon deor ort tráthnóna nó ar maidin go trom

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I wish I was in Carrickfergus, only for nights in Ballygran
I would swim over the deepest ocean, the deepest ocean for my love to find
But he sea is wide and I cannot swim over and neither have I wings to fly
If I could find me a handsome boatman to ferry me over to my love and die

My childhood days bring back sad reflections of happy times I spent so long ago
My boyhood friends and my own relations have all passed on now like melting snow
But I'll spend my days in endless roaming soft sit the grass my bed is free
Ah to be back in Carrickfergus on that long road down to the sea

And in Kilkenny it is reported there on marble stones as black as ink
With gold and silver I would support her, but I'll sing no more now till I get a drink
I'm drunk today and I'm seldom sober, a handsome rover from town to town
Ah, but I'm sick now, my days are numbered so come all ye young men and lay me down

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I wish I was in Carrickfergus only for nights in Ballygran
I would swim over the deepest ocean only for nights in Ballygran.
But the sea is wide and I cannot swim over, and neither have I the wings to fly
I wish I had a handsome boatman to ferry me over my love and I.

Now in Kilkenny, it is reported they have marble stones there as black as ink
With gold and silver I would support her but I'll sing no more now till I get a drink
I'm drunk today, and I'm seldom sober, a handsome rover from town to town
Ah, but I'm sick now my days are numbered come all you young men and lay me down.

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You may travel far far from your own native land
Far away o'er the mountains, far away o'er the foam
But of all the fine places that I've ever been
Sure there's none can compare with the cliffs of Doneen

Take a view o'er the mountains, fine sights you'll see there
You'll see the high rocky mountains o'er the west coast of Clare
Oh the town of Kilkee and Kilrush can be seen
From the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Doneen

It's a nice place to be on a fine summer's day
Watching all the wild flowers that ne'er do decay
Oh the hares and lofty pheasants are plain to be seen
Making homes for their young round the cliffs of Doneen

Fare thee well to Doneen, fare thee well for a while
And to all the kind people I'm leaving behind
To the streams and the meadows where late I have been
And the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Doneen

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Far away across the ocean, underneath an Indian star
Dwells a dusky little (dark eyed lovely) maiden on the coast of Malabar
In the harbour, where we anchored, I can see her shy and sweet
With a bunch of wine-red roses and the wild waves at her feet

Fare thee well, my little dark eyed queen fare thee well, my Indian star
In my heart you'll live forever on the coast of Malabar

Many a happy night I spent with her, 'neath the palm trees green and tall
Many a happy night I danced with her down in yonder city hall
She would raise her misty little face and gaze across the bay
She would whisper "If you love me, why do you sail away?"

Come to me, I hear her calling across the ocean wild and far
Come to me again and love me on the coast of Malabar
And my thoughts keep ever turning to that far-off distant shore
And to that dark eyed girl who loved me, but I'll see her never more

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(The Guard)

O a comical genius was thinking one day
How he'd jack up his job and receive handy pay
He did not like begging and work was too hard
So he got a bright notion to join up the guard
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day

Well he went up to Dublin, to the depot went in
Got a new suit of blue as bright as new pins
They drilt him, they drilt him, they drilt him so hard
The old sergeant proclaimed him a full fledged guard
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day

He was stationed somewhere near the town of Athy
On the roads of the district he kept a close eye
The girls they admired him as all brassers do
Fell in love with the guard and his new suit of blue
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day

Well the girls they would wink and they'd nod as he passed
O but this itchy guard had his eye on one lass
And this little colleen, she being a die-hard
She made it quite clear that she wanted no guard
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day

Well one time while on duty on a cold winter's night
Sure he caught her out cycling without any light
Where's your light, miss? says he; for an answer says she
It's next to me liver, where you'll never be
Diddly-i-dum diidly-i-dum diddly-i-dum dum day

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Come single belle and beau, unto me pay attention
Don't ever fall in love, tis the devil's own invention
For once I fell in love with a maiden so bewitchin'
Miss Henrietta Bell down in Captain Kelly's kitchen

With me too-rah-loo-rah-lay, me too-rah-loo-rah-laddie
With me too-rah-loo-rah-lay, me too-rah-loo-rah-laddie

At the age of seventeen I was 'prenticed to a grocer
Not far from Stephen's Green where Miss Henri used to go sir
Her manners were so fine, she set me heart a twitchin'
When she invited me to a hooley in the kitchen

Sunday being the day we were to have the flare up
I dressed meself quite gay and I frizzed an oiled me hair up
The captain had no wife and he'd gone off a fishin'
So we kicked up the highlife below the stairs in the kitchen

With me arms around her waist, she slyly hinted marriage
When to the door in haste came Captain Kelly's carriage
Her looks told me full well and they were not bewitchin'
That she wished I'd get to hell, or somewhere from the kitchen

She flew up off my knees, full five feet up or higher
And over head and heels threw me slap into the fire!
My new Repealer's coat, that I bought from Mr. Stichen
With a thirty-shilling note, went to blazes in the kitchen

I grieved to see my duds, all besmeared with smoke and ashes
When a tub of dirty suds right in my face she dashes
As I lay on the floor still the water she kept pitchin'
'Till the footman broke the door, and marched down into the kitchen

When the Captain came downstairs though he seen me situation
Despite all me prayers I was marched off to the station
For me they'd take no bail though to get home I was itchin'
And I had to tell the tale how I came in to the kitchen

I said she did invite me, but she gave a flat denial
For assault she did indite me and I was sent for trial
She swore I'd robbed her house in spite of all her screechin'
And I got six months hard for me courtin' in the kitchen

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Well, weren't we the rare oul stock spent the evening getting locked
Up in the Ace o hearts where the high stools were engaging
Over the Butt Bridge down the dock the boat she sailed at 5 o'clock
"Hurry boys, now" said Whack or before we're there we'll all be back
Carry him if you can the crack was ninety in the Isle of Man.

Before we reached the Alexander base the ding dong we surely did raise
In the bar of the ship we had great sport
As the boat she sailed out of the port
Landed up in the Douglas head enquired for a vacant bed
The dining room we soon got shown by a decent woman up the road
Lads, eat it if you can and the crack was ninety in the Isle of Man

Next morning we went for a ramble round viewed the sights of Douglas town
Then we went for a nighty session in a pub they call Dick Darbies
We must have been drunk by half past three
To sober up we went swimming in the sea
Back to the digs for the spruce up and while waitin' for the fry
We all drew up our plan
The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man.

That night we went to Texas Bar Came back down by horse
& car Met Big Jim & all went in to drink some wine in Yate's The
Liverpool Judies it was said were all to be found in the Douglas head McShane
was there in his suit & shirt Them foreign girls he was trying to flirt
Sayin "Here girls, I'm your man" & the crack was ninety in
the Isle of Man 

Whacker fancied his good looks, on an Isle of Man woman
he was struck But a Liverpool lad was by her side & he was throwin'
the jar into her Whacker thought he'd take a chance he asked the quare
one out to dance Around the floor they stepped it out And to Whack it was
no bother Everything was goin' to plan the crack was ninety in the Isle
of Man

The Isle of Man woman fancied Whack your man stood there
till his mates came back Whack! They all whacked into Whack & Whack
was whacked out on his back The police force arrived as well Banjoed a
couple of them as well Landed up in the Douglas jail Until the Dublin boat
did sail Deported every man The crack was ninety in the Isle of Man

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In the lowland of Creggan there lives a white hare
As swift as the swallow that flies through that air
You may tramp the world over but none can compare
With the pride of low Creggan white hare

One clean autumn morning as you may suppose
The red golden sun o'er the green mountain rose
Barney Conway came down and he did declare
This day I'll put an end to that bonnie white hare

He searched through the lowlands and down through the glens
And among the wild bushes where the white hare had ends
Till at last coming home o'er the heather so bare
From behind a wild thistle jumped out the white hare

Bang bang went his gun and his dog it slipped too
As swift as the wind over the green mountain flew
But the dog soon came back which made poor Barney sigh
For he knew that the white hare had bid him again

We're some jolly sportsmen down here from Pomeroy
From Cookstown, Dungannon and likewise the Moy
With our pedigree greyhound we've travelled afar
And we've come down to Creggan in our fine motor car

Away to the lowlands there huntsmen did go
In search for the white hare they look high and low
Till at last Barney Conway on a bog bank so bare
Shouted out to these huntsmen there lies the white hare

They call up their greyhounds from off the green lea
And Barney and the huntsmen they jumped high with glee
For three on the turf bank all gathered around
Seven dogs and nine men did that poor hare surround

Now wonder the white hare did tremble with fear
As she stood on her toes and would raise her big ears
But she stood on her toes and with one gallant spring
She cleared over the greyhounds and broke through the ring

Well the case i went on 'twas a beautiful view
As swift as the wind o'er the green mountains flew
But with pedigree greyhound they didn't go far
They come back and went home in their motor car

There come another man and you all know him well
His name is Pat Devlin and Bonnie Black Nell
In search of the white hare he says I'll have fun
here's fifty to one that Black Nell does her turn

Five turns the hare got then from Bonnie Black Nell
and the sixth one was given around John Haughey's well
'Twas there we lost sight of the white hare and the dog
And ten minutes later they came o'er the bog

Well the chase it went on it was great for to see
The white hare and the greyhound they roamed light and free
Till she travelled to Esker where she knew the land well
And to Bonnie Black Nell she soon bid farewell

And now to conclude and finish its time
I hope you'll forgive me for singing this rhyme
If there's any amongst you in Carrick more fair
Let's drink up a health to the bonnie white hare

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It was early, early in the spring
The birds did whistle and sweetly sing
Changing their notes from tree to tree
And the song they sang was "Ould Ireland Free"

It was early early in the night
The yeoman cavalry gave me a fright
The yeoman cavalry was my downfall
And taken was I by Lord Cornwall

'Twas in the guard-house where I was laid
And in a parlour where I was tried
My sentence passed and my courage low
When to Dungannon I was forced to go

As I was passing my father's door
My brother William stood at the door
My aged father stood at the door
And my tender mother her hair she tore

As I was going up Wexford Street
My own first cousin I chanced to meet
My own first cousin did me betray
And for one bare guinea swore my life away

As I was walking up Wexford Hill
Who could blame me to cry my fill?
I looked behind, and I looked before
But my aged mother I shall see no more

And as I mounted the platform high
My aged father was standing by
My aged father did me deny
And the name he gave me was the Croppy Boy

It was in Dungannon this young man died
And in Dungannon his body lies
And you good people that do pass by
Oh shed a tear for the Croppy Boy

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The winter it has passed
And the summer's come at last
The small birds are singing in the trees
And their little hearts are glad
Ah, but mine is very sad
Since my true love is far away from me

And straight I will repair
To the Curragh of Kildare
For it's there I'll finds tidings of my dear

The rose upon the briar
And the clouds that float so high
Bring joy to the linnet and the bee
And their little hearts are blessed
But mine can know no rest
Since my true love is far away from me

All you who are in love
Aye and cannot it remove
I pity the pain that you endure
For experience lets me know
That your hearts are filled with woe
It's a woe that no mortal can cure

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