Tag: Irish Songs

The Royal Blackbird

 

 

On a fair summer’s morning of soft recreation

I heard a fair maiden a-making great moan

With sighing and sobbing and sad lamentation

A-saying ‘my blackbird most royal hath flown.

My thoughts they deceive me, reflections do grieve me

And I am o’re-burdened with sad memories

But if death it should blind me

As true love inclines me

My blackbird I’d seek out wherever he be.’

 

‘Once in fair England my blackbird did flourish

He was the chief flower that in it did spring

Prime ladies of honour his person did nourish

Because that he was the true son of a king

But this false fortune, which still is uncertain

Has caused a long parting between him and me

His same I’ll advance in Spain or in France

And I’ll seek out my blackbird wherever he be.’

 

‘The birds of the forest they all met together

The turtle was chosen to dwell with the dove

And I am resolved in fair or foul weather

In winter and springtime to make you my love.

He’s all my heart’s pleasure, my joy and my treasure

And dearly my true love, this heart follows thee

Who is constant and kind and courageous of mind

Deserving all blessings wherever he be.’

 

‘What if the fowler my blackbird has taken

Then sighing and sobbing shall be all my tune.

But if he is safe i shall not be forsaken

And hope yet to see him in May or in June.

For him through fire, through mud or through mire

I’d go for I love him to such a degree

May joy and renown and laurels still crown

My blackbird with honour, wherever he be.’

0

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”

0

The Pursuit of Farmer Michael Hayes

A fascinating and rather dark depiction of a man being hunted like a fox. An interesting example of a political song borrowing the form and content of a hunting song.

 

I am a bold and undaunted fox that never was before in tramp.
My rent, rates and taxes I was willing for to pay;
I lived as happy as King Saul and loved my neighbours great and small,
I had no animosity for either friend or foe.

I made my den in prime good land between Tipp’rary and Knocklong,
Where my forefathers lived for three hundred years or more.
But now of late I was betrayed by one that was a fool and knave,
He told me I should quit the place and show my face no more.

But as soon as he ejected me I thought ‘twas time that I should flee,
I stole away his ducks and geese and murdered all his drakes.
I knew I could no longer stand because he had the hounds at hand;
I tightened up my garters and then I was away.

But soon there was a great look-out by land and sea to find me out,
From Dublin Quay to Belfast Town, along the raging sea.
By telegraph they did insert this great reward for my arrest,
My figure, size and form, and my name without a doubt.

They wore their brogues, a thousand pair, this great reward for to obtain,
But still there was no tidings of me or my retreat.
They searched Tipp’rary o’er and o’er, the corn fields round Galtymore,
Then they went on to Wexford but there did not delay.

Through Ballyhale and Stranmore they searched the woods as they went on,
Until they got very hungry at the approach of day.
Now search the world far and near, the likes before you did not hear,
A fox to get away so clear as I did from the hounds.

They searched the rocks, the gulfs, the bays, the ships and liners at the quays,
The ferry-boats and steamers as they were going to sea.
Around the coast they took a steer from Poolbeg lighthouse to Cape Clear,
Killarney Town and sweet Tralee, and then crossed into Clare.

And when they landed on the shore they searched Kilrush from top to toe,
The bathing baths in Miltown, called otherwise Malbay.
And Galway being a place of fame they though it there I would remain,
But still their journey was in vain for I gave them leg-bail.

They searched the train in Oranmore as she was leaving for Athlone,
And every wagon, coach and cart that went along the road.
And Connemara being remote they thought it there I would resort,
They when they got weary they resolved to try Mayo.

In Ballinrobe they had to rest until the hounds were quite refreshed,
From thence they went to Westport and searched it high and low.
Through Castlebar they took a trot, they heard I was in Castlerock,
But still they were deluded, there I lodged the night before.

At Swinford’s town as I sat down I heard a dreadful cry of hounds,
I took another notion to retaliate the chase.
And I being weary from the road, I took a glass at half past four,
Then I was renovated while the hounds were getting weak.

The night being dark in Castlebar I knew not how to make my way,
I had neither den nor manger for to shield me from the cold.
But when the moon began to shine I said I’d make for a foreign clime,
I am in the Land of Liberty, and three cheers for Michael Hayes!

0

The Fox/Tally Ho

One of my early favourites, this must have one of the oddest endings of any hunting song. I don’t have a lot of information on it at the moment, but Ewan MacColl recorded it, as did Martin Carthy.

 

On the first day of March in the year 93

The first recreation that was in this country

The King’s country Gentlemen o’er hills dales and rocks

They all set out most joyfully in search of the fox

 

Tally Ho, hounds away, Tally Ho, hounds away,

Tally Ho, hounds away me boys. Away hounds, away!

 

When Reynard was started he faced Tullamore,

Then Arklow and Wicklow along the sea shore

We kept his brush in view every step of the way

Until he made his course through the streets of Rossleigh

 

But Reynard, sly Reynard he hid from us that night

Ans we swore that we would wait for him until the daylight

And next morning early the hills did resound

With the sweet smell of horses, and the soft cry of hounds

 

When Reynard restarted he faced to the hollow

Where none but the footmen and hounds they could follow

The gentlemen cried, “Watch him, watch him, what shall we do?”

“If the rocks they don’t stop him he’ll cross Killdaloo.”

 

When Reynard was captured his wishes to fulfil

We called for ink and paper and a pen to write his will

And what he made mention of we thought it no prank

For he wrote us out a cheque on the national bank

 

To you Mister Casey, I leave my whole estate

And to you young O’Brian me money and my plate

And to you Sir Francis, me whip, spurs, and cap

For you jumped the walls and ditches, never looking for a gap

0

The Creggan White Hare 

 

In the lowlands of Creggan there lives a white hare,
Swift as a swallow as she flies through the air.
You may travel the world but none can compare
To the pride of the Creggan, that bonny white hare.

On fine summer’s morning as you may suppose,
The red golden sun o’re the green mountain rose.
Barney Conway came down and did loudly declare:
“Today I’ll put an end to that Creggan White Hare.”

So he went through the lowlands and down through the glen,
Among the green rushes where the white hare had dens.
Till at last, coming over the bog-back so bare,
From behind the wild thistle out jumped the white hare.

Well he gave a great shout and his dog she slipped too:
Swift as the wind o’re 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 goodbye.

We have some jolly sportsmen down from the Pomroy,
Cookstown, Dungannon, and likewise the Moy.
With their pedigree greyhounds they came from afar,
Came down to the Creggan in their fine motor car.

’Twas down to the lowlands these huntsmen did go,
To search for the white hare they tried high and low.
Till at last Barney Conway he came on its lair,
And shouted out to the huntsmen, “Here lies the white hare.”

So they called to their greyhounds from off the green lea,
And Barney and the huntsmen they jumped high with glee,
And on the turf bank they all gathered around.
Seven men and nine dogs did the poor hare surround.

No wonder the poor puss did tremble with fear.
She stood on her hind legs, she rose her big ear.
She ris on her toes and with one gallant spring,
Cleared over the greyhounds and broke through the ring.

Well the chase it went on, ’twas a beautiful view,
Swift as the wind o’er the green mountain flew,
But the pedigree greyhounds they didn’t get far,
They came back and went home in their fine motor car.

There came another man and you’ll 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 from Bonnie Black Nell
And the sixth one was given around John Haughey’s Well
’Twas there we lost sight of the 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 grey hound they roamed light and free.
Till she travelled to Esher where she knew the lands well,
And to Bonnie Black Nell she soon bid farewell.

And now to conclude and to finish my rhyme;
I hope you’ll forgive me for wasting your time.
If there’s any among you at Carrickmore Fair,
Drink a jolly good health to that Creggan White Hare.

 

 

I first had this song from Karan Casey. Very often verse 10, 11, & 12 are omitted. The song originates from the Pomroy area of Tyrone.

1

Bonny Portmore

 

O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand,
And the more I think on you, the more I think long.
If I had you now as I had once before
All the lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore.

O bonny Portmore, I am sorry to see
Such a woeful destruction of your ornament tree.
For it stood on your shore for many’s the long day,
Till the long boats from Antrim came to float it away.

O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long.
If I had you now as I had once before
All the Lords in Old England would not purchase Portmore.

All the birds in the forest they bitterly weep
Saying, “Where will we shelter or where will we sleep?”
For the Oak and the Ash, they are all cutten down,
And the walls of bonny Portmore are all down to the ground.

O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand
And the more I think on you the more I think long.
If I had you now as I had once before
All the Lords of Old England would not purchase Portmore.

 

 

I learned Bonny Portmore originally from Loreena McKennitt’s recording from 1991. The song is of Irish origin, and laments the loss of the great Irish forests of old. In particular, the song laments the loss of the Great Oak of Portmore, which was felled during a windstorm in 1760. According to Sean O’Boyle’s book The Irish Song Tradition, Portmore itself was a castle on what is now called Lough Beg; it was built in 1644 by Lord Conway, but eventually the estate was broken up and sold, and it is to this event that the song refers (O’Boyle 1997).

The song was first published in Edward Bunting’s Ancient Music of Ireland (1840).

0

The Parting Glass

 

Oh all the money that e’re I spent,
I spent it in good company.
And all the harm that e’re I’ve done,
Alas it was to none but me.
And all I’ve done for want of wit
To memory now I can’t recall.
So fill to me the parting glass,
Goodnight and joy be with you all.

If I had money enough to spend
And leisure time to sit awhile,
There is a fair maid in this town
Who surely has my heart beguiled.
Her rosy cheeks and ruby lips,
I own she has my heart enthralled.
So fill to me the parting glass,
Goodnight and joy be with you all.

Oh all the comrades that e’re I’ve had
They’re sorry for my going away.
And all the sweethearts that e’re I’ve had
They wish me one more day to stay.
But since it falls unto my lot,
That I should rise and you should not.
I’ll gently rise and softly call
Goodnight and joy be with you all.

I first learned this song as a small child, from a recording by the great Tommy Makem. Noirín Ní Riain tells me that it is one of the few songs collected in Limerick, and that it originally came from a man named John Carr in 1901.

 

0

Website Built with WordPress.com.

Up ↑