THE CREGGAN WHITE HARE

In the lowlands of Creggan, there lives a white hare

As swift as the swallow that flies through the air

You may tramp the world over but none to compare

With the pride of low Creggan, that bonny white hare

One clear 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 the bonny white hare

He searched through the lowlans and down through the glens

And among the wild bushes where the white hare had ends

Til at last, coming home o’er the heather so bare

From behind a wild thistle out jumped the white hare

Bang, bang went his gun and his dog he slipped to

As swift as the wind o’er the green mountain flew

But the dogs soon came back which made poor Barney sigh

For he knew that the white hare had bid him goodbye

We’re some jolly sportsmen down here from Pomroy

From Cookstown, Dungannon and likewise the Moy

With our pedigree grey hounds we’ve traveled afar

And we’re come down to Creggan in our fine motor car

Oh, away to the lowlands these huntsmen did go

In search of the white hare they looked  high and low

Till at last Barney Conway, on a bog-bank so bare

Shouted out to the huntsmen, there lies the white hare

They called up their greyhounds from off the green lea

And Barney and the huntsmen they jumped high with glee

But was there on the turfbank all gathered around

Seven dogs and nine men did that poor hare surround

No wonder the white hare did tremble with fear

As she stood on her toes she 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 chase it went on, ’twas a beautiful view

As swift as the wind, o’er the green mountain flew

But the pedigree greyhounds they didn’t go far

They came back and went home in their fine motorcar

There came another man and you all know him well

His name is Pat Devlin and Bonny Black Nell

In search of the white hare he says, “I’ll have fun

Here’s fifty to one that Black Nell will her turn.”

Five turns the hare got then from Bonny Black Nell

And the sixth one was given around John Haughty’s well

Twas there we lost sight of the hare and the dog

And in ten minutes later came o’er the black bog

Well, the chase it went on, it was great for the see

The white hare and the greyhound, they roamed light and free

Till she traveled to Asker where she knew the lands well

And to Bonny Black Nelly she soon bid farewell

And now to conclude and to finish, it’s time

I hope you’ll forgive me for singing this rhyme

If there’s any amongst you in Carrigmore Fair

Let’s drink up a health to that bonny white hare

Siúl a Rún

I would I were on yonder hill

’Tis there I’d sit and cry my fill

And every tear would turn a mill

Es go dé tu mavorneen slán

Siúl, siúl, siúl a run

Siul go socair agus siul go ciuin

Siul go doris agus ay lig lium

Es go dé tu mavorneen slán

I’d sell my rock, I’d sell my reel

I’d sell my only spinning wheel

To buy my love a coat of steel

Es go dé tu mavorneen slán

I’ll dye my petticoats, I’ll dye them red

And o’er the world I’ll beg my bread

Until my parents shall wish me dead

Es go dé tu mavorneen slán

I wish, I wish, I wish in vain

I wish I had my heart again

And vainly think I’d not complain

Es go dé tu mavorneen slán

But now my love has gone to France

To try his fortune to advance

If he e’er come back, ’tis but a chance

Es go dé tu mavorneen slán

Note: chorus phonetically:

Shule, shule, shule aroon

Shule go sook here agus shule go cuin

Shule go doras agus ay-layg lamb

Is go jay to mavourneen slawn

IF I WAS A BLACKBIRD Lyrics by Andy Stewart

I am a young sailor, my story is sad

Though once I was carefree and a brave sailor lad

I courted a lassie by night and by day

Ah, but now she has left me and sailed far away

Oh, if I was a blackbird, could whistle and sing

I’d follow the vessel that my true love sails in

And in the top rigging I would there build my nest

And I’d flutter my wings o’er her lily white breast

If I was a scholar and could handle the pen

One secret love letter to my true love I’d send

And I’d tell of my sorrow, my grief and my pain

Since she’s gone and left me in yon flowery glen

I sailed o’er the ocean, my fortune to seek

Though I missed her caress and her kiss on my cheek

I returned and I told her that my love was still warm

But she turned away lightly, and great was her scorn

I offered to take her to Donnybrook Fair

And to buy her fine ribbons for to tie up her hair

I offered to marry and to stay by her side

But she says, in the morning, she sails with the tide

My parents, they chide me and will not agree

Saying me and my false love, married should never be

Ah, but let them deprive me, let them do what they will

While there’s breath in my body, she’s the one that I love stil

REELS: THE MERRY SISTERS/CRAIG’S PIPES/THE CURLEW

THE GREY FUNNEL LINE

by Cyril Tawney

Don’t mind the rain or the rolling sea

The weary night never worries me

But the hardest time in a sailor’s day

Is to watch the sun as it dies away

It’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line

The finest ship that sailed the sea

Is still a prison for the likes of me

But give me wings like Noah’s dove

I’d fly up harbour to the girl I love

It’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line

There was a time my heart was free

Like a floating spar on the open sea

But now the spar is washed ashore

It comes to rest at my real love’s door

It’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line

Each time I gaze behind the screws

It makes me long for St. Peter’s shoes

I’ll walk on down that silver lane

And take my real love in my arms again

It’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line

Oh Lord, if dreams were only real

I’d have my hands on that wooden wheel

And with all my heart I’d turn her round

And tell the boys that we’re homeward bound

It’s one more day on the Grey Funnel Line

I’ll pass the time like some machine

Until blue water turns to green

Then I’ll dance on down that walkashore*

And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more

And sail the Grey Funnel Line no more

* A walkashore refers to a method of passing from ship to shore and back again without the need of a boat, even though the ship isn’t alonside. It’s usually a series of pontoons, and it’s generally only used if the ship in question is at a fairly permanent berth. The only walkashore Cyril Tawney remembers using was from the submarine depot ship Forth in Malta.

WILL YE GO TO FLANDERS

Will ye go to Flanders, my Molly-O?

Will ye go to Flanders, my bonny Molly-O?

You’ll see the plighties furling, you’ll hear the pipies scurling

Oh, will ye go to Flanders, my Molly-O?

Will ye go to Flanders, my Molly-O?

To see the bonny soldiers there, my bonny Molly-O

They’ll give us pipes to blow, coats of red and kilts sae brae

Oh, will ye go to Flanders, my Molly-O?

Will ye go to Flanders, my Molly-O?

Along with all the highlanders, my bonny Molly-O?

You’ll hear the captains call and see the sargeants crawl

And the soldiers, how they fall, my Molly-O?

Will ye go to Flanders, my Molly-O?

Will I take the royal shilling there, my bonny Molly-O?

Will you to a foreign shore, for to hear the cannons roar

And the bloody shouts of war, my Molly-O?

Will ye go to Flanders, my Molly-O?

To see the chief commanders, my bonny Molly-O?

You’ll see the bullets fly and the soldiers how they die

And the ladies, how they cry, my Molly-O?

Will ye go to Flanders, my Molly-O?

Will ye go to Flanders, my bonny Molly-O?

There you’ll get wine and brandy, and sack and sugar candy

Oh, will ye go to Flanders, my Molly-O?

THE WILD ROVER

Note: This is known as the Drogheda Wild Rover and it represents an earlier version of the song and can be traced to the singing of Mary-Ann Carolan (1902-1985) of Tenure, Drogheda, County Louth, Ireland. See the liner notes for a more complete history of the song.

And it’s roving, I’ll give it over

Wild roving I’ll give o’er

And I ne’er shall be called

A wild rover no more

I’ve been a wild rover for many’s the year

And I’ve spent all my money drinking strong ale and beer

But now for the future, I’ll take better care

In case that misfortune might come to my share

I went to an alehouse that I used to resort

And I told the landlady that my money it was short

I asked her for a bottle but her answer it was nay

Such a custom as yours I can get any day

I put my hands in my pocket some money to find

And I pulled out the full of my two hands five times

When she saw I had money and money galore

When she saw I had money, she called me her store

She said I have whiskey and wine of the best

And the words that I told you they were only in jest

And if I had all the money that I left in your care

It would buy me ten acres, and my family rare

It would thatch all of my cottage, it would build me a barn

It would buy me a coat for to keep my back warm

GOODNIGHT AND JOY

The year is wearing to the wane

And day is fading west awa’

Out raves the torrent and the rain

The darkening clouds come down the shaw

Let the tempest tout and blow

Upon his loudest winter’s horn

Goodnight and joy be with you all

We’ll maybe meet again the morn

We have wandered far and wide

O’er Scotland’s hills, o’er firth and fell

And many a simple flower we’ve culled

And trimmed them with the heather bell

We’ve ranged the dingle and the dell

The hamlet and the baron’s hall

Now let us bid a fond farewell

Goodnight and joy be with you all

Though I was wayward, you were kind

And sorrowed when I went astray

For all my strains were often wild

Like wind upon a winter’s day

If e’er I led you from the way

Forgive a minstrel anince for a’

A tear fas wi’ his parting lay

Goodnight and joy be with you all

THE BRIGHT SHINING MORNING

The bright shining morning smiles over the hills

With blushes adorning the meadows and rills

The bright shining morning smiles over the hills

With blushes adorning the meadows and rills

And the merry, merry horn cries come, come away

And the merry, merry horn cries come, come away

Awake from your slumbers and hail the new day

Awake from your slumbers and hail the new day

The fox runs before us, he seems for to fly

And he pants to the chorus of the hunt in full cry

The fox runs before us, he seems for to fly

And he pants to the chorus of the hunt in full cry

When our day’s work is ended we home do retire

And we pull off our boots by the light of the fire

When our day’s work is ended we home do retire

And we pull off our boots by the light of the fire

Come fill up your glasses, let the toast go round

And we’ll drink to all hunters where e’er they are found

Come fill up your glasses, let the toast go round

And we’ll drink to all hunters where e’er they are found

BLIND MARY/BELLES OF TIPPERARY/SHEARING THE SHEEP - Air and two reels

THE MEETING OF THE WATERS - Lyrics by Thomas Moore

There is not in this wide world a valley so sweet

As the vale in whose bosom the bright waters weep

Oh, the last rays of feeling and life would depart

E’er the bloom of that valley shalll fade from my heart

E’er the bloom of that valley shalll fade from my heart

Yet it was not that nature had shed o’er the sea

Her purest crystal and brightest of green

It was not her soft margin of streamlet and hill

Oh, no, it was something more exquisite still

Oh, no, it was something more exquisite still

’Twas that friends, the beloved of my bosom were near

Who made every dear scene of enchantment more dear

And who felt how the best charms of nature improve

When we see them reflected in the hearts that they move

When we see them reflected in the hearts that they move

Sweet vale of Avoca, how calm could I rest

In thy bosom of shade with the friends I love best

Where the storms that we feel in this cold world should cease

And our hearts, like thy waters, shall mingle in peace 

And our hearts, like thy waters, shall mingle in peace

SLIEVE (SLIOBH) GALLEN BRAES

As I went out walking one morning in May

To view the fair valles and mountains so gay

I was thinking on those flowers, all doomed to decay

As they bloom around ye bonny, bonny Slieve gallon Braes

I walked out one morning with my dog and my gun

I like to go roaming for joy and for fun

But those days are all over, for I am far away

So farewell unto ye bonny, bonny Slieve Gallon Braes

I  walked out one evening and the sun was in the west

I walked hand in hand with the one I love best

But the hopes of youth have vanished and I am far away

So farewell unto ye bonny, bonny Slieve Gallon Braes

It was not for want of employment at home

That caused all the sons of old Ireland to roam

But those terrorzing landlords, they would not let us stay

So farewell unto ye bonny, bonny Slieve Gallon Braes

And the tax is getting higher

I can no longer stay

So farewell unto ye bonny, bonny Slieve Gallon Braes

Jigs: AUSTIN BARR’S/CLARE JIG/BANK OF TURF

DOWN BY THE GLENSIDE

Twas down by the glenside, I met an old woman

A-plucking young nettles and she ne’er saw me coming

I listened awhile to the song she was humming

Glory-o, glory-o, to the bold Fenian men

It’s sixteen long years since I saw the moon beaming

On brave manly forms, their eyes with heart gleaming

I can see them all now, sure, in all my daydreaming

Glory-o, glory-o, to the bold Fenian men

Some died on the hill, some died with a stranger

And wise men have judged that their cause was a failure

They made for old Ireland and they ne’er feared the danger

Glory-o, glory-o, to the bold Fenian men

I passed on my way, thanks to God that I met her

Be life long or short, sure, I’ll never forget her

There may have been brave men but there never were better

Glory-o, glory-o, to the bold Fenian men

Twas down by the glenside, I met an old woman

A-plucking young nettles and she ne’er saw me coming

I listened awhile to the song she was humming

Glory-o, glory-o, to the bold Fenian men

THE WALLS OF TROY - by Terry Conway

Note: We got this song from The House Band. Verses in brackets are in Terry Conways song but not recorded by the House Band or Out of the Rain.

The banner rides the winds of peace, the pilgrim takes the road

To advertise and civilize, and try to spread the gold

But the cities fall to hatred’s call, the hero smells the flood

To celebrate the nation’s state and dip their hands in blood

And you’ll hear them come around again

Hear the trumpets sound again

Hear the drums resound again

Beneath the walls of Troy

[Now in ealy days, the people had to live their lives in tune

And ages went and seasons came to call of lady moon

But from the east, the hunters came without regard for law

They introduced the hunter’s horse and they invented war]

[In fragments lay the life on earth and it was the Sun Gods’ came

And the men of Iron soon overturned the cities on the plain

And the civilised soon learned the trade, to fight and destroy

And Zeus looked down and laughed at them, beneath the walls of Troy]

When nations seek to find their friends they first compare their foes

And if the list turns out the same a sour alliance grows

The patriot must be revered; he has no need to hide

But the man of peace is damned unless he’s on the other side

You’ll hear them talk of natural laws and population trends

They’ll set the wise to rationalize and talk of means and ends

They’ll say that man was made to hunt, it’s all part of the game

Or maybe they’ll blame religion if they think it clears their name

Now all the world’s a parchwork quilt, all nations must be free

The hate, the fear, it’s so sincere - it’s all to much for me

Your freedon is the right to war, to plunder and to

To rape and slay the child unborn and all to show the flag

The banner rides the winds of peace, the pilgrim takes the road

To advertise and civilize, and try to spread the gold

But the cities fall to hatred’s call, the hero smells the flood

To celebrate the nation’s state and dip their hands in blood