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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.

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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.

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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!”

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The Galway Races

As I roved out through Galway town to seek for recreation
On the seventeenth of August, me mind being elevated
There were multitudes assembled with their tickets at the station
My eyes began to dazzle and they going to see the race
To me whack-fa-the-do-fa the diddle-iddle-a


There were passengers from Limerick and passengers from Nina
Passengers from Dublin and sportsmen for Tipperary
There were passengers from Kerry and all quarters of the nation
And I remember Mr. Haughey for to join the Galway Blazers
To me whack-fa-the-do-fa the diddle-iddle-a

There were multitudes Erin and members from New Keeshore
The boys of Connemara and the Clare unmarried maidens
People from Cork City who where loyal true and faithful
They brought home the Feinian prisoners from dying and foreign nations
To me whack-fa-the-do-fa the diddle-iddle-a

And it’s there you’ll see confectioners with sugar sticks and dainties
Lozenges and oranges and lemonade and raisins
Gingerbread and spices to accommodate the ladies
And big crubeen three pence to be sucking while you’re able
To me whack-fa-the-do-fa the diddle-iddle-a

It’s there you’ll see the gamblers, the thimbles and the garters
The sporting wheel of fortune with four and twenty quarters
And others without scruples pelting wattles at poor Maggie
And her daddy well contented to be gazing at his daughter
To me whack-fa-the-do-fa the diddle-iddle-a

It’s there you’ll see the pipers and the fiddlers competing
The nimble-footed dancers, a-tripping on the daisies
There were others shouting cigars and likes and bills for all the races
With colors of the jockeys and the price and horses ages
To me whack-fa-the-do-fa the diddle-iddle-a

It’s there you’ll see the jockey, and they’re mounted out so stately
The pink, the blue, the orange, the emblem of our nation
When the bell was rung for starting, all the horses seemed impatient
I thought they never stood on ground, their speed was so amazing
To me whack-fa-the-do-fa the diddle-iddle-a

There was half a million people there, from all denominations
The Catholic, the Protestant, the Jew and Presbyterian
There was yet no animosity, no matter what persuasion
But sportsman hospitality inducing Mr. Paisley
With me whack-fa-the-do-fa the diddle-iddle-a

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Galway Bay

If you ever go across the sea to Ireland,
Then maybe at the closing of your day
You will sit and watch the moon rise over Claddagh,
And watch the sun go down on Galway Bay.


Just to hear again the ripple of the trout stream,
The women in the meadows making hay,
And to sit beside a turf- fire in the cabin
And I to watch the barefoot Gossoons at their play

For the breezes blowing o’ er the seas from Ireland
Are perfumed by the heather as they blow
And the women in the uplands diggin’ praties,
Speak a language that the strangers do not know.

For the strangers came and tried to teach us their way
They scorn’d us just for being what we are
But they might as well go chasing after moonbeams
Or light a penny candle from a star

And if there is going to be life hereafter,
And somehow I am sure there’s going to be
I will ask God to let me make my heaven
In that dear land across the Irish sea

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The Rose of Tralee by William Mulchinock

The pale moon was rising above the green mountain,
The sun was declining beneath the blue sea;
When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain,
That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet ’twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, ’twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.


The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading
And Mary all smiling sat listening to me;
The moon through the valley her pale rays were shining
When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet ’twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, ’twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.

On the far fields of India, mid war’s bloody thunder,
Her voice was a solace and comfort to me,
But the cold hand of death has now torn us asunder
I’m lonely tonight for my Rose of Tralee.
She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
Yet ’twas not her beauty alone that won me;
Oh no, ’twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.

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Molly Malone

Early on a Sunday morning,
High upon a gallows tree,
Kevin Barry gave his young life
for the cause of liberty.
Only a lad of eighteen summers,
Yet there’s no one can deny,
That he went to death that morning,
nobly held his head up high.


“Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
Do not hang me like a dog;
For I fought for Ireland’s freedom
On that dark September morn,
All around that little bakery,
Where we fought them hand to hand.
Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
For I fought to free Ireland.”

Just before he faced the hangman,
In his lonely prison cell,
British soldiers tortured Barry
Just because he would not tell
All the names of his companions
Other things they wished to know;
“Turn informer, and we’ll free you.”
Proudly Barry answered, “No !”

“Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
Do not hang me like a dog;
For I fought for Ireland’s freedom
On that dark September morn,
All around that little bakery,
Where we fought them hand to hand.
Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
For I fought to free Ireland.”

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Kevin Barry (Version I)

In Mountjoy Jail one Monday morning,
High upon the gallows tree,
Kevin Barry gave his young life
For the cause of liberty.
Just a lad of eighteen summers,
Yet no one can deny,
As he walked to death that morning
He proudly held his head on high.


Just before he faced the hangman,
In his dreary prison cell,
British soldiers tortured Barry
Just because he would not tell
The names of his brave comrades,
And other things they wished to know,
‘Turn informer or we’ll kill you!’
Kevin Barry answered ‘No!’

Calmly standing to attention,
As he bade his last farewell
To his broken-hearted mother,
Whose sad grief no one can tell,
For the cause he proudly cherished
This sad parting had to be;
Then to death walked, softly smiling,
That old Ireland might be free.

Another martyr for old Ireland,
Another murder for the crown,
Whose brutal laws may kill the Irish,
But can’t keep their spirit down.
Lads like Barry are no cowards,
From the foe they will not fly;
Lads like Barry will free Ireland,
For her sake they’ll live and die.

Two available versions.

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Kevin Barry (Version II)

Early on a Sunday morning,
High upon a gallows tree,
Kevin Barry gave his young life
for the cause of liberty.
Only a lad of eighteen summers,
Yet there’s no one can deny,
That he went to death that morning,
nobly held his head up high.


“Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
Do not hang me like a dog;
For I fought for Ireland’s freedom
On that dark September morn,
All around that little bakery,
Where we fought them hand to hand.
Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
For I fought to free Ireland.”

Just before he faced the hangman,
In his lonely prison cell,
British soldiers tortured Barry
Just because he would not tell
All the names of his companions
Other things they wished to know;
“Turn informer, and we’ll free you.”
Proudly Barry answered, “No !”

“Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
Do not hang me like a dog;
For I fought for Ireland’s freedom
On that dark September morn,
All around that little bakery,
Where we fought them hand to hand.
Shoot me like an Irish soldier,
For I fought to free Ireland.”

Two available versions.

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I’ll Tell Me Ma or Belle of Belfast City

I’ll Tell me ma when I go home,
The boys won’t leave the girls alone,
They pulled my hair and stole my comb,
But that’s all right ’till I go home.
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast city,
She is courting, one two three
Please won’t you tell me who is she?


Albert Mooney says he loves her,
All the boys are fighting for her,
Knock on the door and they ring the bell
Oh my true love, are you well?
Here she comes, as white as snow,
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes,
Old Johnny Mary she says she’ll die
If she doesn’t get the boy with the roving eye.
I’ll Tell me ma when I go home,
The boys won’t leave the girls alone,
They pulled my hair and stole my comb,
But that’s all right ’till I go home.
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast city,
She is courting, one two three
Please won’t you tell me who is she?

Let the wind and the rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come tumbling from the sky
She’s as nice as apple pie
She’ll get her own boy, by and by
When she gets a lad of her own,
She won’t tell her ma ’till she comes home,
Let the boys stay as they will,
For it’s Albert Mooney she loves still.

I’ll Tell me ma when I go home,
The boys won’t leave the girls alone,
They pulled my hair and stole my comb,
But that’s all right ’till I go home.
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast city,
She is courting, one two three

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