O DANNY BOY
midi midi midi midi midi midi

[This song was written by Frederic Edward Weatherly
(1848-1929), an english lawyer. He was also a radio entertainer
and a songwriter. In 1910 he wrote words and music for a song he
called "Danny boy", but the song did not get much
attention. Two years later, 1912, Weatherly's sister-in-law sent
him a tune called "Londonderry air". He immediately
noticed that the melody was perfect to his text. In 1913 Weatherly
published a revised version of his lyrics to Londonderry air.]

Oh, Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
From glen to glen and down the mountain side
The summer's gone, and all the leaves are falling
'Tis ye, 'tis ye must go, and I must bide

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

And when ye come and all the flowers are dying
If I am dead, as dead I well may be
Ye'll come and find the place where I am lying
And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me

And I shall hear, 'though soft ye tread around me
And all my grave shall linger sweeter be
Then ye will bend and tell me that ye love me
And I shall sleep in peace until ye come to me

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   O'DONNELL ABU (The Clan Connell War Song M.J.McAnn circa 1843) 

   Proudly the note of the trumpet is sounding
   Loudly the warcries arise on the gale
   Fleetly the steed by Lough Swilly is bounding
   To join the thick squadrons on Saimiers green vale!
   On every mountaineer! Stranger to flight or fear!
   Rush to the standard of dauntless Red Hugh!
   Bonnaught and Gallowglass, throng from each mountain pass!
   Onward for Erin! O'Donnell abu!

   Princely O'Neill to our aid is advancing
   With many a chieftain and warrior clan!
   A thousand proud steeds in his vanguard are prancing
   Neath the Borderers brave from the banks of the Bann!
   Many a heart shall quail under its coat of mail,
   Deeply the merciless foeman shall rue
   When on his ear shall ring, borne on the breezes wing
   TyrConnell's dread war cry O'Donnell abu!

   Wildly o'er Desmond the warwolf is howling
   Fearless the eagle sweeps over the plain
   The fox in the streets of the city is prowling
   And all who would conquer them are banished, or slain!
   On with O'Donnell then! Fight the good fight again!
   Sons of TyrConnell are valiant and true!
   Make the proud Saxon feel Erin's avenging steel!
   Strike! For your Country! O'Donnell abu!


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   ON THE ONE ROAD 

   (Chorus)
   We're on the one road
   Sharing the one load
   We're on the road to God knows where
   We're on the one road
   It may be the wrong road
   But we're together now who cares
   North men, South men, comrades all
   Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Donegal
   We're on the one road swinging along
   Singing a soldier's song

   Though we've had our troubles now and then
   Now is the time to make them up again
   Sure aren't we all Irish anyhow
   Now is the time to step together now

   (Chorus repeat)

   Tinker, tailor, every mother's son
   Butcher, baker shouldering his gun
   Rich man, poor man, every man in line
   All together just like Old Land Syne

   (Chorus repeat)

   Night is darkest just before the dawn
   From dissention Ireland is reborn
   Soon we'll all be United Irishmen
   Make our land a Nation Once Again

   (Chorus repeat)


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ORANGE MAID OF SLIGO 

On Ben Bulben's green and lofty height 
The evening sun was a setting bright 
It gave a ray of a golden light 
Around the Bay of Sligo 

A tiny craft with glancing oars 
And spreading sails, the wind before 
It blew the tiny craft ashore 
To this, the Bay of Sligo 

And at the bow there sat a girl 
With lovely cheeks and flaxen curl 
Her tender beauty was like a pearl 
T'was the Orange maid of Sligo 

And glancing o'er the vessel's side 
She saw upon the water's glide 
An orange lily's golden pride 
Upon the Bay of Sligo 

"Make haste, make haste and save that flower 
I prize it more than any other 
No traitor shall have it within his power 
Around the Bay of Sligo" 

An Orange youth then made a vow, 
Brought back that flower and with a bow 
Bestowed it on the lovely brow 
Of the orange maid of Sligo 

She soon became his lovely bride 
And oft they thought at even tide 
Upon that lily's golden pride 
Around the Bay of Sligo 

Come all true blues and fill your glass 
A better toast will never pass 
We'll drink unto that lovely lass 
The Orange Maid of Sligo 

 
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OLD ELM TREE, THE 

There's a path by an old deserted mill. 
On the banks by an old bridge. broken still, 
Where the weeping willows are bending low 
On the green mossy bank, where the viiolets grow. 

The birds they utter their low, soft notes 
In the dreams of days that are past and gone, 
When Laura, my darling, sat by me. 
On the green, messy bank, 'neath the old elm tree. 

The birds sang sweetly 'neath the clouds above. 
When she told me the tale of her heart's first love: 
And ere the last rose of summer had died, 
She had made me the promise to be my bride 

Then came the trials of a. parting sore; 
Little we thought we should meet no more; 
But ere I came from the deep blue sea, 
They had made her grave 'neath the old elm tree. 

Cruel and harsh were the tales they told, 
How my heart was false and my love had grown cold: 
I had found another, more dear to me 
Forgotten my promise 'neath the old elm tree. 

Then her cheek grew pale with the crushed heart's pain 
And her beautiful lips never smiled again: 
And she bitterly wept where none could see, 
She wept for the past, 'neath the old rim tree. 

She died. and they parted her golden hair, 
On the pale cold face of death lay there; 
And they buried her where she loved best to be, 
On the green, messy bank, by the old elm tree. 

Laura, dear Laura, my heart's first love, 
We'll meet in that happy land above; 
No place on earth is so dear to me, 
As the green-growing grave, 'neath the old elm tree. 

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Old Dungarven Oak, The

As I went out one morning, going to Dungarven fair
I spied a pretty maiden with the sunlight in her hair
Her way was so delightful, her voice rang like a bell
And as I overtook her, I asked if she was well

Lay down your woollen shawl my love. I swear it is no joke
I'll tell to you the story, of the Old Dungarven Oak

As we approached Dungarven, the girl at me did stare
She asked me why I raised my hat, to a tree so old and bare
I told her of the legend, if the tree should ere come down
There'd be a great disaster, and Dungarven would be drowned

Lay down your woollen shawl my love. I swear it is no joke
I'll tell to you the story, of the Old Dungarven Oak

Turn Around

Well, then she started laughing, my face grew very red
She said that only fools believe, what those old legends said
Her laughter was contagious, now the truth to you I'll tell
By the time we reached the market place, I began to laugh as well

Lay down your woollen shawl my love. I swear it is no joke
I'll tell to you the story, of the Old Dungarven Oak

As I sit here by my fireside, 'tis the autumn of my life
And the darling girl I met that day, well she's now my darling wife
We have a lovely daughter, and a son to push our yoke
And it's all because I raised my hat to the Old Dungarven Oak

Lay down your woollen shawl my love. I swear it is no joke
I'll tell to you the story, of the Old Dungarven Oak
THREE TIMES

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Old Bog Road, The

My  feet are here on Broadway this blessed harvest morn
But oh the ache that's in me for the spot where I was born
My weary hands are blistered from toil in cold and heat
But oh to swing a scythe today through a field of Irish wheat
If I'd the chance to wander back or own a kings abode
I'd sooner see the hawthorn tree on the old bog road

My mother died last springtime when Erin's fields were green
The neighbours said her waking was the finest ever seen
There were snowdrops and primroses all piled beside her bed
And Fern's church was crowded as her funeral mass was said
But here was I on broadway building brick by load
As they carried out her coffin down the old bog road

(Break)

Now life's a weary puzzle past finding out by man
I take the day for what it's worth and do the best I can
If no-one cares a rush for me what needs to make a moan
I'll go my way and earn my pay and smoke my pipe alone
If no-one cares a rush for me what needs to make a moan
O god be with you Ireland, and the old bog road

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OLD FENIAN GUN


It hung above the kitchen fire. It's barrel long and brown
And one day with a boy's desire, I climbed and took it down
My father's eyes in anger flashed. He cried "what have you done?!
I wish you'd left it where it was, That's my old Fenian gun"

I fondled it with love and pride. I looked it o'er and o'er
I placed it on my shoulder And I marched across the floor
My father's anger softened And he shared my boyish fun
"Ah, well" he said "'tis in your breed like that old Fenian gun"

I remember '67 well when lads like you and me
All thought we'd strike another blow to set old Ireland free
But broken were our golden hopes I was long months on the run
But it did good work for Ireland then that brown old Fenian gun

I was down then in Killaloe t'was the hottest fight of all
And you can see he burned his arm there's a mark still on the ball
I hope the young lads growing now will hold the ground we won
And not disgrace the cause in which I held that Fenian gun

I placed it o'er the fire once more. I heard my father sigh
I knew his thoughts were turning back on days now long gone by
And then I vowed within my heart I'll be my father's son
And if ever Ireland wants my aid I'll hold the Fenian gun

That's years ago I've grown a man and I've weathered many a gale
This last long year's been spent inside a gloomy English jail
I've done my part I'll do it still Until the fight is won
When Ireland's free she'll bless the men Who held the Fenian gun


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OLD MAN, THE

The tears have all been shed now
We've said our last goodbyes
His souls been blessed
He's laid to rest
And it's now I feel alone
He was more than just a father
A teacher my best friend
He can still be heard
In the tunes we shared
When we play them on our own

Chorus:
I never will forget him
For he made me "what I am"
Though he may be gone
Memories linger on
And I miss him, the old man

As a boy he'd take me walking
By mountain field and stream
And he showed me things
not known to kings
And secret between him and me
Like the colours of the pheasant
As he rises in the dawn
And how to fish and make a wish
Beside the Holly Tree

Chorus

I thought he'd live forever
He seemed so big and strong
But the minutes fly
And the years roll by
For a father and a son
And suddenly when it happened
There was so much left unsaid
No second chance
To tell him thanks
For everything he's done

Chorus


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ONLY OUR RIVERS RUN FREE
(Michael MacConnell)

When apples still grow in November
When blossoms still bloom from each tree
When leaves are still green in December
It's then that our land will be free
I've wandered her hills and her valleys
And still through her valleys I see
A land that has never known freedom
And only her rivers run free

I drink to the death of her manhood
Those men who'd rather have died
Than to live in the cold chains of bondage
To bring back their rights were denied
Oh, where are you know when we need you
What burns where the flames used to be
Are you gone like the snows of last winter
And will only our rivers run free

How sweet is life but we're crying
How mellow the wine but we're dry
How fragrant the rose but it's dying
How gentle the wind but it sighs
What good is in youth when it's aging
What joy is in eyes that can't see
When there's sorrow in sunshine and flowers
And still only our rivers run free

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ON MIDSUMMER DAY
(Murtaugh)

On midsummer day in the land of Erin
The war with the Firbolg about to begin
Thrice nine of the children of Danu were killed
In the first bloody hurl match upon the great hill

For four days a terrible slaughter took place
The king of the Firbolg with agonized face
At the Morrigan's screaming while circling above
And blood drenched the country of goddesses' love

  Derry down, down, down, derry down

Yeokay the Firbolg was killed in his flight
The hand of Nuada chopped off in the fight
Tho battle was ended there was just one thing
Nuada was blemished, he could not be king
Avoiding occurrence of political wars
The goddesses' children went to the Fomors
The king of the Fomors, he sent them his son
To rule Danu's children and block out the sun

  Derry down, down, down, derry down

The name of this evil new ruler was Bres
Stole most of their cattle and taxed all the rest
Ogma the champion was sent to fetch wood
The Dagda was forced to build forts fast as he could

They suffered from insult from famine and cold
Bres would not allow them their pleasures to hold
The Armid, the Dianchet and Miach were known
Attempting to help Nuada take back the throne

  Derry down...

They dug up his hand and they put in place
The magic was worked and the pentagrams traced
Sinew to sinew and nerve to nerve fold
Nuada's eyes glistened and he became whole

A poet and tale teller deserved some respect
I sang songs for Bres tho I didn't expect
To be thrown in a dungeon, no fire, no bread
A curse upon Bres was the next thing I read

  Derry down...

No meat on the plates and no milk of the cows
No money for minstrels, no homes for ourselves
By hoarding and taxing he says he conserves
May Bres receive what he truly deserves

The magic began as the magic was said
And his face became covered with blotches bright red
By being a tyrant he was made a fool
The result of this blemish was he could not rule

  Derry down...

And Nuada returned to the throne once again
And the children of Danu rejoiced to the end
By feasting and drinking all night till we fold
the triumphant children of goddess of old

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ON THE ONE ROAD

Chorus:
We're on the one road
Sharing the one load
We're on the road to God knows where
We're on the one road
It may be the wrong road
But we're together now who cares
North men, South men, comrades all
Dublin, Belfast, Cork and Donegal
We're on the one road swinging along
Singing a soldier's song

Though we've had our troubles now and then
Now is the time to make them up again
Sure aren't we all Irish anyhow
Now is the time to step together now

(Chorus repeat)

Tinker, tailor, every mother's son
Butcher, baker shouldering his gun
Rich man, poor man, every man in line
All together just like Old Lang Syne

(Chorus repeat)

Night is darkest just before the dawn
From dissention Ireland is reborn
Soon we'll all be United Irishmen
Make our land a Nation Once Again

(Chorus repeat)


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OULD WOMAN FROM WEXFORD, THE

Well, there was an old woman from Wexford
And in Wexford she did well
She lovered old man dearly
But another one twice as well

Chorus:
With me tiggery tiggery-toram
And me toram-toram-ta

Ah one day she went to a doctor
Some medicine for to find
She said, 'Will ye give me something
That'll make my ould man blind?'

Says he, 'Give me eggs and marrow bones
And make him sup them all
And it won't be so very long after
That he won't see you at all.'

Well the doctor wrote a letter
And he signed it with his hand
He sent it to the ould man
Just to let him understand

So she fed him the eggs and the marrow bones;
And she made him sup them all
And it wasn't so very long after
That he couldn't see the wall

Says th'ould man 'I think I'll drown meself
But that might be a sin.'
Says she, 'I'll come along with you
And I'll help to shove you in.'

Well the ould woman she stood back a bit
For to rush an' push him in
But the ould man gently stepped aside
And she went tumblin' in

Oh, how lowdly she did yell
And how loudly she did bawl
'Arra, hould yer whist, y'ould woman
Sure I can't see you at all

Ah, sure eggs, eggs and marrow bones
Will make yer ould man blind
But, if you want to drown him
You must creep up close behind
With me tiggery tiggery-toram
And me toram-toram-ta
With me tiggery tiggery-toram
And the blind man he could see


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OUR LADS IN CRUMLIN JAIL

In Ireland's fight for freedom, boys, the North has played her part
And though her day has yet to come, we never yet must part
We'll keep the fight until the end, we know we cannot fail

And there's the reason why today they keep our lads in Crumlin Jail
So join the fight, you volunteers, it cannot be denied
That jail won't break their spirits down

They'd just as soon have died for England know
And England hates our fearless Northern name
And that's another reason why they keep our lads in Crumlin Jail


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