The Granemore Hare

 

 

Last Saturday morning the horns they did blow

To the green fields round Tassagh the huntsmen did go

To meet the bold sportsmen from around Keady town

For none loved the sport better than the boys of Maydown

 

And when we arrived they were all standing there

So we took to the green fields to search for the hare

We had not gone far when someone gave a cheer

Over high hills and valleys the wee puss did steer

 

With our dogs all abreast and that big mountain hare

And the sweet singing music it rang through the air

Straight for the black bank for to try them once more

And it was her last sight round the hills of Granemore

 

And as we trailed on to where the wee puss did lie

She sprang to her feet for to bid us goodbye

Our music it ceased and her cry we could hear

Saying “Cursed be the ones brought you Maydown dogs here”

 

“Last night as I lay content in the glen

It was little I thought about dogs or of men

But when going homewards at the clear light of day

I could hear the long horn that young Toner did play”

 

“And it being so early I stopped for a while

It was little I thought they were going to meet Coyle

If I had known that I’d had have lain near the town

Or tried to get clear of those dogs from Maydown”

 

“And now I am dying the sport is all done

No more through the green fields round Keady I’ll run

Nor feed in the glen on a cold winter’s night

Or go home to my den when it’s breaking daylight”

 

“I blame old McMahon for bringing Coyle here

He’s been at his old capers these many’s the year

From Friday to Sunday he’ll never give o’er

With a pack of strange dogs round the hills of Granemore”