• Star of the County Down
  
• Gillgarra Mountain
• Greensleeves
• Loch Lomond
• Twa Corbies
• When Morning is Breaking
• All Through the Night
• Rakes of Mallow
  
• Fly Not Yet
• Finnegan's Wake
• Polly Von
• Scarborough Faire
• Old Dun Cow
  
• Health to the Company
  

Rakes of Mallow
Traditional Irish

Beauing, belleing, dancing, drinking,
Breaking windows, cursing, sinking
Ever raking, never thinking,
Live the Rakes of Mallow;
Spending faster than it comes,
Beating waiters bailiffs, duns,
Bacchus' true begotten sons,
Live the Rakes of Mallow.

One time naught but claret drinking,
Then like politicians, thinking
To raise the "sinking funds"when sinking.
Live the Rakes of Mallow.
When at home, with da-da dying,
Still for mellow water crying;
But, where there's good claret plying
Live the Rakes of Mallow.

Racking tenants, stewards teasing,
Swiftly spending, slowly raising,
Wishing to spend all their days in
Raking as at Mallow.
Then to end this raking life,
They get sober, take a wife,
Ever after live in strife,
And wish again for Mallow.

Fly Not Yet
Traditional Irish By Terlough Carolan

Fly not yet; 'its just the hour
When pleasure, like the midnight flow'r
That scorns the eye of vulgar light,
Beings to bloom for sons of night
And maids who love the moon...
'Twas but to bless these hours of shade
That beauty and the moon was made:
'Tis then their soft attractions glowing,
Set the tides and goblets flowing
Oh! stay! Joy so seldom weaves a chain
Like this tonight, that oh! 'tis pain
To break its links so soon... Oh stay!
Oh, stay! Joy so seldom weaves a chain,
Like this tonight, that oh! 'tis pain
To break its links so soon.

Fly not yet; the fount that play'd
In times of old thro' Ammon's shade,
Tho' icy cold by day it ran,
Yet still, like souls of mirth, began
to burn when night was near...
And thus should lover's hearts and looks
At noon be cold as winter brooks,
Nor kindle till the night, returning,
Brings their genial hour for burning.Oh! stay!
Oh, stay! When did morning ever break,
And find such beaming eyes awake
As those that sparkle here?... Oh, stay!
Oh, stay! When did morning ever break,
And find such beaming eyes awake
As those that sparkle here?

Finnegan's Wake
Traditional Irish

Tim Finnegan lived on Walkin' Street
A gentleman, Irish, mighty odd;
He had a brogue both rich and sweet
And to rise in the world he carried a hod.
Now Tim had a sort of the tipplin' way
With a love of the whiskey he was born
And to help him on with his work each day
He'd a "drop of the cray-thur" every morn.

Chorus:
Whack fol the darn 0, dance to your partner
Whirl the floor, your trotters shake;
Wasn't it the truth I told you
Lots of fun at Finneaan' s wake!

One mornin' Tim was feelin' full
His head was heavy which made him shake;
He fell from the ladder. and broke hi s skull
And they carried him home his corpse to wake.
They rolled him up in a nice clean sheet
And laid him out upon the bed,
A gallon of whiskey at his feet
And a barrel of porter at his head.
Chorus

His fiends assembled for the wake
Mrs. Finnegan called for lunch
First they brought in tay and cake
Then pipes, tobacco and whiskey punch.
Biddy O'Brien began to bawl
"Such nice clean corpse, did ever see?
"0 Tim, mavourneen, why did you die?"
~Arragh, shut your gob said Paddy McGhee!
Chorus

Then Maggie 0' Conner took up the job
"0 Biddy," says she, "You're wrong, I'm sure"
Biddy gave her such a belt in the gob
That it left her sprawlin on me floor.
And then the war did soon engage
Twas woman to woman and man to man,
Shillelagh law was all the rage
a row and a ruckus soon began.
Chorus

Mickey Moloney ducked his head,
When a noggin of whiskey flew at him.
It missed, and fallin on the bed,
The liquor scattered over Tim!
The Corpse revives! see how he rises!
An' Timothy, jumping from the bed,
Says, "Whirl your whiskey 'round like blazes:
'Thanun an Dhul! D'ye think I'm dead.'
Chorus

Polly Von
Traditional Scottish

I'll tell of a hunter who's life was undone
By the cruel hand of evil at the setting of the sun
His arrow was loosed and it flew through the dark
His true love was slain as the shaft met it's mark

Chorus:
She had her apron wrapped around her
And he took her for a swan
And it's oh, and alas it was she, Polly Von

He ran up beside her, and found it was she,
He turned away his head
For he could not bear to see,
He lifted her up and found she was dead,
A fountain of tears for his true love he shed.
Chorus

He bore her away to his home by the sea
Cried "Father, oh Father I've murdered poor Polly.
I've killed my fair love in the flower of her life,
I'd always intended that she be my wife."
Chorus

He roamed near the place where his true love was slain,
He wept bitter tears but his cries were all in vain,
As he looked on the lake a swan glided by
And the sun slowly sank in the gray of the sky.
Chorus

Scarborough Faire
Traditional English

Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Remember me to one who lives there
She once was a true love of mine

Have her find me an acre of land
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Between the sea foam and over the sand
And then she'll be a true love of mine

Plow the land with the horn of a lamb
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam
And then she'll be a true love of mine

Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
And gather it all in a bunch of heather
And then she'll be a true love of mine

Love imposes impossible tasks
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Though not more than any heart asks
And I must know she's a true love of mine

When thou has finished thy task
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
Come to me, my hand for to ask
For thou then art a true love of mine

Old Dun Cow
Traditional Irish

Some friends and I in a public house
Were playin' dominoes one night
When into the pub a fireman ran
His face all chalky white.
"What's up", says Brown, "Have you seen a ghost,
Or have you seen me Aunt Maria h?"
"Your Aunt Mariah be buggered!", says he,
"The bleedin' pub's on fire!"

"Fire," says Brown, "What a bit of luck.
Everybody follow me.
We'll go down to the cellar
If the fire's not there
Then we'll have a grand old spree."
So we went on down after good old Brown
There the booze was free
And we hadn't been there ten minutes or more
Till we were drunk and disorderly

Chorus...
And there was Brown upside down
Moppin'up the whiskey from the floor.
"Booze, booze!" The firemen cried
As they came knockin' on the door
Oh don't let 'em in till it's all drunk up
And somebody shouted Maclntyre! MACINTYRE!
And we all got blue-blind paralytic drunk
When the Old Dun Cow caught fire.

Then, Tim walked over to the port wine tub
And gave it just a few hard knocks
Started takin' off his pantaloons
Likewise his shoes and socks.
"Hold on, "says Brown, "that ain't allowed
Ya cannot do that in here.
Don't go washin' trousers in the port wine tub
When we got Guinness beer.
Chorus...

And then there came a mighty crash
Half the bloody roof gave way ~
We were almost drowned in the firemen's hose
Though we were feelin' gay.
So we got some tacks and some old wet sacks
And we tacked ourselves inside
And we sat there getting bleary-eyed drunk
While the Old Dun Cow caught fire...
Chorus...

Health to the Company
Traditional

Kind friends and companions come join in my rhyme.
Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine.
Let us drink and be merry, all grief to refrain
for we may and might never all meet here again.

Chorus:
So here's a health to the company, and one to my lass.
Let us drink and be merry all out of one glass.
Let us drink and be merry all grief to refrain.
For we may and might never all meet here again.

Our ship lies at harbor, she's ready to dock.
I wish her safe landing without any shock.
And if ever we meet again by land or by sea,
sure I'm always rememberin' your kindness to me.
Chorus

Well, here's a health to the wee lass that I love so well.
For style and for beauty, there are none can excel.
She smiles on my countenance as she sits on my knee;
Sure in all the wide world there's none as happy as we.
Chorus

Here's a health to the all of you if I've named you not
Do not think for a moment it's because your forgot
I will treasure the memory as I call you my friend
And I hope that the next year we will all meet again.

Chorus:
From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay
And from Galway to Dublin town
No maid I've seen like the sweet colleen
That I met in the County Down.

As she onward sped I shook my head
And I gazed with a feeling rare
And I said, says I, to a passerby
"who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
He smiled at me, and with pride says he,
"That's the gem of Ireland's crown.
She's young Rosie McCann
from the banks of the Bann
She's the star of the County Down."
Chorus

At the crossroads fair I'll be surely there
And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
With me shoes shone bright and me hat cocked right
For a smile from the nut-brown rose.
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke
Though my plow turns a rusty brown
Till by my fireside sits a smiling bride
Sits the star of the County Down.

Gillgarra Mountain
Traditional Irish

As I was going over the Gillgarra mountain
I spied Cornel Farrell and his money he was counting
I first drew my pistol, and I then drew my rapier.
And said stand and deliver, for I am a bold deceiver,

Chorus:
musha ring um-a durrum da
whack for the daddy 'o
whack for the daddy 'o
there's whiskey in the jar-o

I counted out his money, and it made a pretty penny.
I put it in my pocket to take home to darlin' Jenny.
She sighed and swore she loved me and she never would deceive me,
But the devil take that women, for she always lied so easy
Chorus

I went into my chamber, for to take a slumber,
To dream of gold and jewels and of course it was no wonder.
But Jenny took my charges and she filled them up with water,
And sent for Cornel Farrel to be ready for the slaughter.
Chorus

The next morning early, before I rose to travel,
There came a band of footmen and likewise that Cornel Farrel.
I first drew my pistol, for she stole away my rapier,
But a prisoner I was taken I couldn't shoot the water.
Chorus

They put me in the jail, with the Judge all a-writin'
For robbing Cornel Farrel up on Gillgarra mountain
But they didn't take me fist, so I knocked the jailer down
And bid a farewell to this tight fisted town.
Chorus

I'd like to find me brother, the one that's in the army,
I don't know where he's stationed, in Cork or in Killarney.
Together we'll go roving or the mountains of Kilkenny,
and I swear he'll treat me better than me darling sporting Jenny
Chorus

Now some men take delight in the carriages and rolling,
Some take delight in the hurley and the bowling.
But I take delight in the juice of the barley,
and courting pretty fair maids in the morning all so early.

Greensleeves
Traditional English

Alas, my Love! ye do me wrong
To cast me off discourteously;
And I have loved you so long,
Delighting in your company.

Chorus
Greensleeves was all my joy,
Greensleeves was my delight;
Greensleeves was my heart of gold,
And who but my Lady Greensleeves?

Thy gown was of the grassy green,
Thy sleeves of satin hanging by,
Which made thee be our harvest queen,
And yet thou wouldst not love me.
Chorus

I have been ready at your hand
To grant whatever thou would'st crave;
I have waged both life and land
Your love and goodwill for to have.

Greensleeves, now farewell! adieu!
God I pray to prosper thee;
For I am still thy lover true.
Come once again and love me.

Loch Lomond
Traditional Scottish

By yon bonnie banks and by yon bonnie braes,
Where the sun shines bright on Loch Lomond
Where me and my true love were ever wont to gae,
On the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.

'Twas then that we parted, In yon shady glen,
On the steep, steep side of Ben Lomond,
Where, in purple hue, The highland hills we view,
And the moon coming out in the gloaming.

Chorus:
Oh! Ye'll take the high road, and I'll take the low road,
And I'll be in Scotland afore ye,
But me and my true love will never meet again,
On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.

The wee birdies sing, And the wild flowers spring,
And in sunshine the waters sleeping.
But the broken heart it kens, Nae second spring again,
Though the waeful may cease frae their greeting.
Chorus

The Twa Corbies
Traditional Scottish

As I was walkin' all alane,
I heard twa corbies makin' mane,
and `tain untae the ither did say, O,
"where sall we gang and dine the day, O,
where sall we gang and dine the day?"

"Down beside yon open bight,
I wot there lies a new-slain knight,
and naebody kens that he lies there, O,
but his hawk and his hound and his lady fair, O,
his hawk and his hound and his lady fair."

"His hound is tae the hunting gane,
his hawk ta fecht the wild fowl dane.
His lady ha' ta'en anither mate, O,
sae we may mak' oor dinner sweet, O,
we may mak' oor dinner sweet."

"Ye'll sit on his white hoose-bane,
and I'll pike oot his bonny blue e'en.
Wi' mony a lock o' his golden hair, O,
we'll theek oor nest when it grows bare, O,
theek oor nest when it grows bare."

"Mony's the one for him mak's mane,
but nane sall ken whaur he ha' gane.
O'er his white bones when they are bare, O,
the wind sall blaw forever mair, O,
wind sall blaw forever mair."

When Morning is Breaking
Traditional Welsh

When morning is breaking
O'er mountain and dale,
And sunlight illumines
Our home in the vale.
Fresh, soft balmy breezes,
The lark's thrilling lay,
Are heralds foretelling
The joys of the day.

When ev'ning is closing
On mountain and dale,
And darkness o'er shadows
Our home in the vale.
The field flowers drooping,
As fast fades the light,
Gives dusky foretelling,
Glad tidings of night.

All Through the Night
Traditional Welsh
(Welsh lyrics spelled phonetically)

HolI am ran-tire sehr thuh wed-ont,
Ahr heed uh nohs.
Dum-ar forth ee vro go-gawn-yont,
Ahr heed uh nohs.
Gol-i ar-all you tuh wuIl-ooch,
Ee are thang os gweer bred vairtch-ooch
Tie-leer nave oith m'yoon tuh-wail-ooch,
Ahr heed uh nohs.

Oh more seer-yol gwen ah sare-en,
Ahr heed uh nohs.
Ee o-ly-yo'ee chwire thy-are-en,
Ahr heed uh nohs.
Nohs you hen-eint pan thou cus-teeth,
Ond ee har-thee deen i hoorth-theeth,
Rone ein goal-i gwan een gil-eeth,
Ahr heed uh nohs.

Sleep, my love, and peace attend thee,
All through the night;
Guardian angels God will lend thee,
All through the night.
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and vale in slumber steeping,
I, my loving vigil keeping,
All through the night.

Angels watching ever round thee,
All through the night;
In thy slumbers close surround thee,
All through the night.
They should of all fears disarm thee,
No forebodings should alarm thee,
They will let no peril harm thee,
All through the night.