1. |
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2. |
Farewell To Auld Ireland
04:54
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Farewell to old Ireland, the land of my childhood,
Which now and forever I am going to leave.
Farewell to the shores where the shamrock is growing,
It's the bright spot of beauty and the home of the brave.
I'll think on its valleys with fond admiration,
Though never again its bright hills will I see.
I'm bound for to cross the wide swelling ocean,
In search of fame and fortune and of sweet liberty.
Our ship at the present lies in Derry harbour,
To bear us away across the wide swelling sea.
May heaven be her companion and grant her fair breezes,
Till we reach the green fields of America.
It's hard to be forced from the land that we live in,
Our houses and farms all obliged for to sell.
To wander alone among Indians and strangers,
To find some sweet spot where our children might dwell.
Our artists, our farmers, our tradesmen are leaving,
To seek for employment far over the sea.
Where they'll get their riches with care and with industry,
There's nothing but hardship at home if you stay.
So cheer up your spirits, you lads and you lasses,
There's gold for the digging and lots of it, too.
A health to the heart that has courage to ramble,
Bad luck to the lad or the lass that would rue.
We'll call for a bumper of ale, wine and brandy,
We'll drink to the health of those far away.
Our hearts will all warm at the thought of old Ireland,
When we're on the green fields of Americay.
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3. |
Miller of Drohan
03:25
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4. |
Back Home In Derry
03:51
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In 1803 we sailed out to sea
Out from the sweet town of Derry
For Australia bound if we didn't all drown
The marks of our fetters we carried
In the rusty iron chains we cried for our wean's
Our good women we left in sorrow
As the main sails unfurled, our curses we hurled
At the English and thoughts of tomorrow
At the mouth of the Foyle, bid farwell 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 the fever
Sixty rebels today bound for Botany Bay
How many will reach their receiver?
Oh, oh, I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh, oh, I wish I was back home in Derry
I cursed them to hell, as our bow fought the swell
Our ship danced like a moth in the firelight
Wild horses rode high as the devil passed by
Taking souls to Hades by twilight
Five weeks out to sea, we were now forty-three
We buried our comrades each morning
In our own slime, we were lost in the time
Endless night without dawning
Oh, oh, I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh, oh, I wish I was back home in Derry
Van Diemen's land is a hell for a man
To end 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 winter's night you will find me
Oh, oh, I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh, oh, I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh, oh, I wish I was back home in Derry
Oh, oh, I wish I was back home in Derry
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5. |
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6. |
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7. |
Jock Stewart
03:22
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Oh, me 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 drinkin wi’ me.
I’m a man you don’t meet every day.
I have acres of land,
I have men at command;
I have always a shilling to spare.
Oh, I took out my gun,
and him I did shoot
All down in the county Kildare.
So, come fill up your glasses
Of brandy and wine,
And whatever the cost, I will pay.
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8. |
Monaghan Jig
04:10
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9. |
Lord Randall
04:46
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Where did you go, Lord Randall my son?
Where did you go, my beloved one?
Down in the glen, down in the glen.
Make me my bed, I've a pain in me head.
And I fain would lie down, and I fain would lie down.
What did you do there, Lord Randall my son?
What did you do there, my beloved one?
I dined with my true love, I dined with my true love,
Make me my bed, I've a pain in me head.
And I fain would lie down, and I fain would lie down.
What did you eat there, Lord Randall my son?
What did you eat there, my beloved one?
Eels and eels broth, eels and eels broth,
Make me my bed, I've a pain in me head.
And I fain would lie down, and I fain would lie down.
I fear you are poisoned, Lord Randall, my son.
I fear you are poisoned, my beloved one.
Indeed I am poisoned, indeed I am poisoned,
Make me my bed, I've a pain in me head.
And I fain would lie down, and I fain would lie down.
What will you leave to your mother, my son?
What will you leave to your mother, oh ill-fated one?
My gold and my silver, my gold and my silver.
Make me my bed, I've a pain in me head.
And I fain would lie down, and I fain would lie down.
What will you leave to your sweetheart, my son?
What will you leave to your sweetheart, oh ill-fated one?
A rope to hang her, a rope to hang her,
Make me my bed, I've a pain in me head.
And I fain would lie down, and I fain would lie down.
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10. |
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11. |
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Lift MacCahir Og your face
You're brooding o'er you're old disgrace
That black FitzWilliam stormed your place,
He sent you to the Fern.
Grey said victory was sure
Soon the firebrand he'd secure;
Until he met at Glenmalure
With Fiach MacHugh O'Byrne.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
From Tassagart to Clonmore,
There flows a stream of Saxon gore
Oh, great is Rory Oge O'More,
At sending loons to Hades.
White is sick and Grey is fled,
And now for black FitzWilliam's head
We'll send it over, dripping red,
To Liza and her ladies.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
See the swords of Glen Imayle,
They flash all o'er the English pale,
See all the children of the Gael,
Beneath O'Byrne's banners
Rooster of the fighting stock,
Would you let a Saxon cock
Crow out upon an Irish rock?
Fly up and we'll teach him manners.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
Curse and swear Lord Kildare,
Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam, have a care
Fallen is your star, low.
Up with halberd out with sword
On we'll go for by the lord
Fiach MacHugh has given the word,
Follow me up to Carlow.
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12. |
Rights of Man
02:17
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13. |
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There were three old gypsies came to our house door
They came brave and boldly-o
And one sang high and the other sang low
And the other sang a raggle taggle gypsy-o
It was upstairs downstairs the lady went
Put on her suit of leather-o
And there was a cry from around the door
She's away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o
It was late that night when the Lord came in
Enquiring for his lady-o
And the servant girl she said to the Lord
"She's away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o"
"Well saddle for me my milk white steed
- My big horse is not speedy-o
And I will ride till I seek my bride
She's away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o"
Now he rode East and he rode West
He rode North and South also
Until he came to a wide open field
It was there that he spied his lady-o
"How could you leave your goose feather bed
Your blankets strewn so comely-o?
And how could you leave your newly wedded Lord
All for a raggle taggle gypsy-o?"
"What care I for my goose feather bed
My blankets strewn so comely-o?
Tonight I lie in a wide open field
In the arms of a raggle taggle gypsy-o"
"How could you leave your house and your land?
How could you leave your money-o?
How could you leave your only wedded Lord
All for a raggle taggle gypsy-o?"
"What care I for my house and my land?
What care I for my money-o?
I'd rather have a kiss from the yellow gypsy's lips
I'm away wi' the raggle taggle gypsy-o!"
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14. |
Sí Bheag, Sí Mhór
03:57
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Toby Bresnahan Grand Rapids
Grand Rapids, Michigan native. Acoustic musician.
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