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Rocky Road to Dublin

In the merry month of June, when first from home I started,
And left the girls alone, sad and broken hearted,
Shook hands with father dear, kissed my darling mother,
Drank a pint of beer, my tears and grief to smother;
Then off to reap the corn, and leave where I was born.
I cut a stout black-thorn to banish ghost or goblin ;
With a pair of brand new brogues, I rattled o’er the bogs –
Sure I frightened all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin

For it is the rocky road, here’s the road to Dublin ;
Here’s the rocky road, now fire away to Dublin!

The steam coach was at hand, the driver said he’d cheap ones,
But sure the luggage van was too much for my ha’pence,
For England I was bound, it would never do to balk it,
For every step of the road, bedad! says I, I’ll walk it.
I did not sigh or moan until I saw Athlone.
A pain in my shin bone, it set my heart a-bubbling ;
And fearing the big cannon, looking o’er the Shannon,
I very quickly ran on the rocky road to Dublin

For it is the rocky road, here’s the road to Dublin ;
Here’s the rocky road, now fire away to Dublin!

In Mullingar, that night, I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight, with spirits light and airy ;
Took a drop of the pure, to keep my spirits from sinking,
That’s always an Irishman’s cure, whenever he’s troubled with thinking.
To see the lassies smile, laughing all the while
At my comical style, my heart set a-bubbling,
They axed if I was hired, the wages I required,
Until I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin.

For it is the rocky road, here’s the road to Dublin ;
Here’s the rocky road, now fire away to Dublin!

In Dublin next arrived, I thought it was a pity
To be so soon derived of a view of that fine city;
‘Twas then I took a stroll, all among the quality,
My bundle then was a stole in a neat locality,
Something crossed my mind, thinks I, “I’ll look behind”
No bundle could I find upon my stick a-wobbling.
Inquiring for the rogue, they said my Connaught brogue,
It wasn’t much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.

For it is the rocky road, here’s the road to Dublin ;
Here’s the rocky road, now fire away to Dublin!

A coachman raised his hand as if myself was wanting,
I went up to a stand, full of cars for jaunting ;
“Step up my boy!” says he ; “Ah, ah! that I will with pleasure,”
“and to the strawberry beds, I’ll drive you at your leisure.”
“A strawberry bed?” says I, “faith, that would be too high! On one of straw I’ll lie, and the berries won’t be troubling;”
He drove me out as far, upon an outside car,
Faith! Such jolting never wor on the rocky road to Dublin

For it is the rocky road, here’s the road to Dublin ;
Here’s the rocky road, now fire away to Dublin!

I soon got out of that, my spirits never failing,
I landed on the quay, just as the ship was sailing,
The captain at me roared, swore that no room had he,
But when I leaped on board, they a cabin found for Paddy.
Down among the pigs I played such rummy rigs,
Danced some hearty jigs, with water round me bubbling,
But when off Holyhead, I wished that I was dead,
Or safely put in bed, on the rocky road to Dublin.

For it is the rocky road, here’s the road to Dublin ;
Here’s the rocky road, now fire away to Dublin!

The boys in Liverpool, when on the dock I landed,
Called myself a fool, I could no longer stand it ;
My blood began to boil, my temper I was losing,
And poor old Erin’s Isle, they all began abusing.
“Hurrah! My boys,” says I, my shillelagh I let fly,
Some Galway boys were by, they saw I was a hobble in ;
Then with a loud hurrah! They joined me in the fray.
Faugh-a-ballagh! Clear the way for the rocky road to Dublin.

Amhráin na bhFiann by Peadar Kearney

Seo dhaoíbh, a cháirde duan Óglaigh,
Caithréimeach, bríomhar, ceolmhar,
Ár dtintne cnámh go buacach táid,
‘S an spéir go mín réaltógach;
Is fonnmhar faobhrach sinn chun gleo,
‘S go tiúnmhar glé roimh thíocht don lá
Faoi chiúnas caomh na hoíche ar seal
Seo libh canaig’ Amhrán na bhFiann.

Sinne Fianna Fáil
Atá fé gheall ag Éirinn,
buion dár slua
Thar toinn do ráinig chugainn,
Fé mhóid bheith saor.
Sean tír ár sinsir feasta
Ní fhagfar fé’n tiorán ná fén tráil
Anocht a théam sa bhearna bhaoil,
Le gean ar Ghaeil chun báis nó saoil
Le guna screach fé lámhach na bpiléar
Seo libh canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.

Cois bánta réidhe, ar árdaibh sléibhe,
Ba bhuachach ár sinsir romhainn,
Ag lámhach go tréan fé’n sár-bhrat séin
Tá thuas sa ghaoith go seolta
Ba dhúchas riamh d’ár gcine cháidh
Gan iompáil siar ó imirt áir,
‘S ag siúl mar iad i gcoinne námhad
Seo libh, canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann

Sinne Fianna Fáil
Atá fé gheall ag Éirinn,
buion dár slua
Thar toinn do ráinig chugainn,
Fé mhóid bheith saor.
Sean tír ár sinsir feasta
Ní fhagfar fé’n tiorán ná fén tráil
Anocht a théam sa bhearna bhaoil,
Le gean ar Ghaeil chun báis nó saoil
Le guna screach fé lámhach na bpiléar
Seo libh canaídh Amhrán na bhFiann.

A Solider’s Song by Peadar Kearney

We’ll sing a song, a soldier’s song,
With cheering, rousing chorus,
As round our blazing fires we throng,
The starry heavens o’er us;
Impatient for the coming fight,
And as we wait the morning’s light,
Here in the silence of the night
We’ll chant a soldier’s song.

Soldiers are we, whose lives are pledged to Ireland;
Some have come from a land beyond the wave.
Sworn to be free, no more our ancient sireland
Shall shelter the despot or the slave.
Tonight we man the ‘bhearna bhaoil’,
In Erin’s cause, come woe or weal;
‘Mid cannons’ roar and rifles’ peal
We’ll chant a soldier’s song.

In valley green, on towering crag,
Our fathers fought before us,
And conquered ‘neath that same old flag
That’s proudly floating o’er us.
We’re children of a fighting race
That never yet has known disgrace,
And as we march, the foe to face,
We’ll chant a soldier’s song.

Soldiers are we, whose lives are pledged to Ireland;
Some have come from a land beyond the wave.
Sworn to be free, no more our ancient sireland
Shall shelter the despot or the slave.
Tonight we man the ‘bhearna bhaoil’,
In Erin’s cause, come woe or weal;
‘Mid cannons’ roar and rifles’ peal
We’ll chant a soldier’s song.

The Galtee Mountain Boy by Christy Moore

I joined the Flying Column in 1916
In Cork with Seán Moylan, Tipperary with Dan Breen
Arrested by Free Staters and sentenced for to die
Farewell to Tipperary said the Galtee Mountain Boy
We crossed pleasant valleys and over the hilltops green
Where we met with Dinny Lacey, Seán Hogan and Dan Breen
Seán Moylan and his gallant band they kept the flag flying high
Farewell to Tipperary said the Galtee Mountain Boy

We crossed the Dublin mountains we were rebels on the run
Though hunted night and morning we were outlawed but free men
We tracked the Wicklow mountains as the sun was shining high
Farewell to Tipperary said the Galtee Mountain Boy

I’m bidding farewell to old Clonmel that I never more will see
And to the Galtee mountains that oft times sheltered me
To the men who fought for liberty and died without a sigh
May the cause be ne’er forgotten said the Galtee Mountain Boy

Written by Christy Moore.

Fiddler’s Green by John Connolly

As I roved by the dockside one evening so fair
To view the salt waters and take in the salt air
I heard an old fisherman singing a song
Oh, take me away boys me time is not long

Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you someday on Fiddlers Green

Now Fiddler’s Green is a place I’ve heard tell
Where the fishermen go if they don’t go to hell
Where the weather is fair and the dolphins do play
And the cold coast of Greenland is far, far away

Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you someday on Fiddlers Green

Now when you’re in dock and the long trip is through
There’s pubs and there’s clubs and there’s lassies there too
And the girls are all pretty and the beer is all free
And there’s bottles of rum growing on every tree.

Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you someday on Fiddlers Green

Where the skies are all clear and there’s never a gail
And the fish jump on board with one swish on their tail
Where you lie at your leisure, there’s no work to do
And the skipper’s below making tea for the crew

Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you someday on Fiddlers Green

Now I don’t want a harp nor a halo, not me
Just give me a breeze and a good rolling sea
I’ll play me old squeeze-box as we sail along
With the wind in the riggin to sing me a song

Wrap me up in me oilskin and blankets
No more on the docks I’ll be seen
Just tell me old shipmates, I’m taking a trip mates
And I’ll see you someday on Fiddlers Green

The Ferryman

All the little boats are gone
From the breast of Anna Liffey
And the ferrymen are stranded on the quay
The Dublin docks are dying
And a way of life is gone
And Molly it was part of you and me

Where the strawberry beds
Sweep down to the Liffey
You’ll kiss away the worries from my brow
I love you well today
And I’ll love you more tomorrow
If you ever loved me Molly love me now

‘Twas the only job I knew
It was hard but never lonely
The Liffey Ferry made a man of me
Now it’s gone without a whisper
Forgotten even now
Sure it’s over Molly over can’t you see

Where the strawberry beds
Sweep down to the Liffey
You’ll kiss away the worries from my brow
I love you well today
And I’ll love you more tomorrow
If you ever loved me Molly love me now

Well now I spin my yarns
And spend my days in talking
I hear them whisper Charley’s on the dole
But Molly we’re still living
And Darling we’re still young
And the river never ruled my heart or soul

Where the strawberry beds
Sweep down to the Liffey
You’ll kiss away the worries from my brow
I love you well today
And I’ll love you more tomorrow
If you ever loved me Molly love me now

Erin Go Bragh or a Row in the Town

I’ll tell you a story of a row in the town,
When the Green Flag went up and the Crown rag came down,
‘Twas the neatest and sweetest thing ever you saw,
And they played the best games played in Erin Go Bragh.

One of our comrades was down at Ringsend,
For the honour of Ireland to hold and defend,
He had no veteran soldiers but volunteers raw,
Playing sweet Mauser music for Erin Go Bragh.

Now here’s to Pat Pearse and our comrades who died
Tom Clark, MacDonagh, MacDiarmada, McBride,
And here’s to James Connolly who gave one hurrah,
And placed the machine guns for Erin Go Bragh.

One brave English captain was ranting that day,
Saying, “Give me one hour and I’ll blow you away,”
But a big Mauser bullet got stuck in his craw,
And he died of lead poisoning in Erin Go Bragh.

Bould Ceannt and his comrades like lions at bay,
From the South Dublin Union poured death and dismay,
And what was their horror when the Englishmen saw
All the dead khaki soldiers in Erin Go Bragh.

Now here’s to old Dublin, and here’s to her renown,
In the long generation her fame will go down,
And our children will tell how their forefathers saw,
The red blaze of freedom in Erin Go Bragh.

The Enniskillen Dragoons (Version I) by Tommy Makem

Fare thee well Enniskillen, fare thee well for a while
And all around the borders of Erin’s green isle
And when the war is over we’ll return in full bloom
And we’ll all welcome home the Enniskillen Dragoons

A beautiful damsel of fame and renown
A gentleman’s daughter from Monaghan town
As she drove by the barracks this beautiful maid
Stood up in her coach to see Dragoons on parade

Fare thee well Enniskillen, fare thee well for a while
And all around the borders of Erin’s green isle
And when the war is over we’ll return in full bloom
And we’ll all welcome home the Enniskillen Dragoons

They were all dressed out like gentlemen’s sons
Their fine shining sabres and their carbine guns
Their silver mounted pistols, she observed them full soon
Because she loved an Enniskillen Dragoon

Fare thee well Enniskillen, fare thee well for a while
And all around the borders of Erin’s green isle
And when the war is over we’ll return in full bloom
And we’ll all welcome home the Enniskillen Dragoons

Flora dear Flora your pardon I crave
It’s now and forever that I’ll be your slave
Your parents have insulted both morn, night and noon
Because you would wed an Enniskillen Dragoon

Fare thee well Enniskillen, fare thee well for a while
And all around the borders of Erin’s green isle
And when the war is over we’ll return in full bloom
And we’ll all welcome home the Enniskillen Dragoons

Willie dearest Willie don’t heed what they say
For children their parents are bound to obey
But when the war is over they’ll all change their tune
And you’ll roll me in your arms by the light of the moon

Fare thee well Enniskillen, fare thee well for a while
And all around the borders of Erin’s green isle
And when the war is over we’ll return in full bloom
And we’ll all welcome home the Enniskillen Dragoons

Note: There are at least three versions of this song, the first listed below(Enniskillen Dragoons 1) is that which has been recorded, the second (Enniskillen Dragoons 2) is most likely the original from which the popular version has come and the third (Enniskillen Dragoons 3), a version written and recorded by Tommy Makem.

The Enniskillen Dragoons (Version II) by Tommy Makem

A beautiful damsel of fame and renown
A gentleman’s daughter of fame and renown –
As she rode by the barracks, this beautiful maid,
She stood in her coach to see the dragoons’ parade.

They were all dressed out like gentlemen’s sons,
With their bright shining swords and carbine guns,
With their silver-mounted pistols – she observed them full soon,
For to serve as a royal Enniskillen dragoon!

Your bright son of Mars, who stands on the right
Whose armour doth shine like the bright stars of night,
Saying: “Willie, dearest Willie, you’ve listed full soon.”
Saying: “The Lord be with you, Enniskillen dragoon.”

“Oh, Flora! Dearest Flora! Your pardon I crave,
it’s now and forever I must be a slave –
your parents they insulted me both morning and noon,
for fear that you’d wed an Enniskillen dragoon.”

“Oh, mind, dearest Willie! Oh, mind what you say,
for children are bound their parents to obey;
for when we’re leaving Ireland, they will all change their tune,
Saying :’The Lord be with you, Enniskillen dragoon.’”

Fare you well, Enniskillen! Fare you well for a while,
And all around the borders of Erin’s green isle,
And when the war is over we’ll return in full bloom,
And they’ll all welcome home the Enniskillen dragoon.

There are at least three versions of this song, the first listed below(Enniskillen Dragoons 1) is that which has been recorded, the second (Enniskillen Dragoons 2) is most likely the original from which the popular version has come and the third (Enniskillen Dragoons 3), a version written and recorded by Tommy Makem.

God Save Ireland

High upon the gallows tree, swung the noble-hearted three,
By the vengeful tyrant, stricken in their bloom.
But they met him face to face with the courage of their race,
And they went with souls undaunted to their doom.

“God save Ireland,” said the heroes.
“God save Ireland,” said them all.
“Whether on the scaffold high, or the battlefield we die,
No matter when, for Ireland dear we fall!”

Grit around with cruel foes, sure their courage proudly rose,
For they thought of hearts that loved them far and near.
Of the millions true and brave, o’er the ocean’s swelling wave,
And the friends in Holy Ireland ever dear!

“God save Ireland,” said the heroes.
“God save Ireland,” said them all.
“Whether on the scaffold high, or the battlefield we die,
No matter when, for Ireland dear we fall!”

Climbed they up the rugged stair, rang their voices out in prayer,
Then with England’s fatal cord about them cast.
Close beside the gallows tree, kissed like brothers lovingly,
True to home and faith, and freedom to the last!

“God save Ireland,” said the heroes.
“God save Ireland,” said them all.
“Whether on the scaffold high, or the battlefield we die,
No matter when, for Ireland dear we fall!”

Never ’til the latest day shall the memory pass away,
Of those gallant lives thus given for our land.
And on the cause must go, amidst joy and weal and woe,
‘Til me make our isle a nation, free and grand!

“God save Ireland,” said the heroes.
“God save Ireland,” said them all.
“Whether on the scaffold high, or the battlefield we die,
No matter when, for Ireland dear we fall!”