POETRY COLLECTION


www.lib.msu.ru/journal 

dvm-gazeta.narod.ru/poetry.htm



CELTIC SONGS : LIST OF LYRICS

I. Texts found at web site 
http://celtic.ru

1. Donald McGillavry 
2. Down By the Glenside 
3. The Dunes 
4. Lanigan's Ball 
5. Marie's Wedding 
6. Rattlin' Bog 
7. The Recruiting Sergeant 
8. Ride On 
9. The Rising of The Moon 
10. Sleepin' Maggie 
11. Star of the County Down 
12. Wha'll be King but Cherlie? 
13. Wife in Every Port

II. Texts found at web site 
http://www.piper.newmail.ru/text1.html

14. MOVING ON SONG 
15. MOLLY MALONE 
16. I"LL TELL ME MA 
17. THE IRISH ROVER 
18. THE RATTLIN" BOG 
19. DIRTY OLD TOWN 
20. THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN 
21. DONALD MACGILLAVRY 
22. QUEEN OF ARGYLL 
23. RATTLIN ROARIN WILLIE 
24. CUNNLA 
25. WILD ROVER 
  
 

1. Donald McGillavry 

(circa 1715/1745) 

Donald's gane up the hill hard and hungry,
Donald's come doon th' hill, wild and angry!
Donald will clear the gouk's nest cleverly;
Here's to the King and Donald MacGillavry!
Come like a weighbauk, Donald MacGillavry!
Come like a weighbauk, Donald MacGillavry!
Balance them fair, and balance them cleverly!
Off wi' the counterfeit, Donald MacGillavry!

Donald's run o'er the hill but wi' his tether, man,
As he were wud, or stang'd wi'an ether, man,
When he comes back, there's some will look merrily!
Here's t'King James and Donald MacGillavry!
Come like a weaver, Donald MacGillavry!
Come like a weaver, Donald MacGillavry!
Pack on your back, and elwand sae cleverly;
Gi' them full measure. my Donald MacGillavry!

Donald has foughten wi' rief and wi' rougery;
Donald has dinner'd wi' banes and beggary,
Better it were for Whigs and Whiggery:
Meetin' the Devil, than Donald MacGillavry!
Come like a tailor, Donald MacGillavry!
Come like a tailor, Donald MacGillavry!
Push about, in and out, thimble them cleverly!
Here's tae King James and Donald MacGillavry!

Donald's the callan that brooks nae tangleness;
Whigging and prigging, and a' newfangledness;
They maun be gane; he winna be baukit, man;
He maun hae Justice, or, faith, he'll take it, man!
Come like a cobbler, Donald MacGillavry!
Come like a cobbler, Donald MacGillavry!
Beat them, and bore them, and lingel them cleverly!
Up wi' King James, and Donald MacGillavry!

Donald was mumpit wi' mirds and mockery,
Donald was blinded wi' blads o'property;
Arles ran high, but makin's were naethin', man!
Lord, how Donald is flyin' and frettin', man!
Come like the devil, Donald MacGillavry!
Come like the devil, Donald MacGillavry!
Skelp them and scaud them that proved sae unbritherly!
Up wi' King James and Donald MacGillavry!  


2. Down By the Glenside

(BOLD FENIAN MEN) 

'Twas down by the glenside, I met an old woman
She was picking young nettles and she scarce saw me coming
I listened a while to the song she was humming
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men

'Tis fifty long years since I saw the moon beaming
On strong manly forms and their eyes with hope gleaming
I see them again, sure, in all my daydreaming
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men.

Some died on the glenside, some died near a stranger
And wise men have told us that their cause was a failure
They fought for old Ireland and they never feared danger
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men

I passed on my way, God be praised that I met her
Be life long or short, sure I'll never forget her
We may have brave men, but we'll never have better
Glory O, Glory O, to the bold Fenian men  

 
3. The Dunes 

Shane McGowan 

I walked today on a cold grey shore
Where I walked when I was much younger
While they built the dunes upon the sand
For the dead from the Great Hunger
For the dead from the Great Hunger

Although I was a doctor's son
I gazed in fear and wonder
How they perished from the rageing plague
That came in with the Great Hunger
That came in with the Great Hunger

When I watched at the age of four
In eighteen forty seven
The mounds they built upon the shore
They seemed to point to heaven
They seemed to point to heaven

But the wind and the rain they have worked away
Now the dunes are all uneven
And the children kicked the sand around
And the bones they are revealed then
And the bones they are revealed then

They stole our grain as we died in pain
To put upon their tables
The dying covered the dead with sand
And danced while they were able
And danced while they were able

While the fiddler played we drank poitin
And ate the last of the berries
Then knelt and said the Rosary
Round the mounds of the dead we'd buried
Round the mounds of the dead we'd buried

I saw dark shadows rise up from the sand
And dance all around the dunes
They danced the rattling dance of he dead
To a set of mournful tunes
To a set of mournful tunes

A crack of lightening split the sky
And the rain on the dunes it poured
I left them lying where I shot them down
The bailiff and the landlord
Then I went for a drink in West Port

I walked today on a cold grey shore
Where 1 walked when I was much younger
While they built the dunes upon the sand
For the dead from the Great Hunger
For the dead from the Great Hunger  


4. Lanigan's Ball 

In the town of Athy one Jeremy Lanigan
Battered away 'til he hadn't a pound.
His father he died and made him a man again
Left him a farm and ten acres of ground.
He gave a grand party to friends and relations
Who didn't forget him when it comes to the will,
And if you'll but listen I'll make your eyes glisten
Of the rows and the ructions of Lanigan's Ball.

Chorus:
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
six long months doing nothing at all.
Six long months I spent in Dublin,
learning to dance for Lanigan's ball.

Myself to be sure got free invitation,
For all the nice girls and boys I might ask,
And just in a minute both friends and relations
Were dancing 'round merry as bees 'round a cask.
Judy O'Daly, that nice little milliner,
She tipped me a wink for to give her a call,
And I soon arrived with Peggy McGilligan
Just in time for Lanigan's Ball.

Chorus.

There were lashings of punch and wine for the ladies,
Potatoes and cakes; there was bacon and tea,
There were the Nolans, Dolans, O'Gradys
Courting the girls and dancing away.
Songs they went 'round as plenty as water,
"The harp that once sounded in Tara's old hall,"
"Sweet Nelly Gray" and "The Rat Catcher's Daughter,"
All singing together at Lanigan's Ball.

Chorus.

They were doing all kinds of nonsensical polkas
All 'round the room in a whirligig.
Julia and I, we banished their nonsense
And tipped them the twist of a reel and a jig.
&'Och mavrone, how the girls got all mad at me
Danced 'til you'd think the ceiling would fall.
For I spent three weeks at Brooks' Academy
Learning new steps for Lanigan's Ball.

She stepped out and I stepped in again,
I stepped out and she stepped in again,
She stepped out and I stepped in again,
Learning new steps for Lanigan's Ball.

Boys were all merry and the girls they were hearty
And danced all around in couples and groups,
'Til an accident happened, young Terrance McCarthy
Put his right leg through miss Finnerty's hoops.
Poor creature fainted and cried, "Meelia murther,"
Called for her brothers and gathered them all.
Carmody swore that he'd go no further
'Til he had satisfaction at Lanigan's Ball.

In the midst of the row miss Kerrigan fainted,
Her cheeks at the same time as red as a rose.
Some of the lads declared she was painted,
She took a small drop too much, I suppose.
Her sweetheart, Ned Morgan, so powerful and able,
When he saw his fair colleen stretched out by the wall,
Tore the left leg from under the table
And smashed all the Chaneys at Lanigan's Ball.

Boys, oh boys, 'twas then there were runctions.
Myself got a lick from big Phelim McHugh.
I soon replied to his introduction
And kicked up a terrible hullabaloo.
Old Casey, the piper, was near being strangled.
They squeezed up his pipes, bellows, chanters and all.
The girls, in their ribbons, they got all entangled
And that put an end to Lanigan's Ball.  


5. Marie's Wedding 

(THE LEWIS BRIDAL SONG) 

Chorus:
Step we gaily on we go
Heel for heel and toe for toe
Arm in arm and row on row
All for Marie's wedding.

Chorus:<>

Over hillways up and down
Myrtle green and bracken brown
Past the sheiling thro' the town
All for sake of Marie.

Chorus:<>

Cheeks are bright as rowans are
Brighter far than any star
Fairest of them all by far
Is my darlin' Marie.

Chorus:<>

Plenty herring, plenty meal
Plenty peat to fill her creel
Plenty bonnie bairns as well
That's the toast of Marie.
 


6. Rattlin' Bog 

Chorus:
Horo, the rattlin' bog, there's a bog down in the valley-o
Horo, the rattlin' bog, there's a bog down in the valley-o

And in this hole there was a tree, a rare tree, a rattlin' tree
A tree in the hole and a hole in the bog
and the bog down in the valley-o.

And on this tree there was a limb, a rare limb, a rattlin' limb
A limb on the tree and a tree in the hole
and a hole in the bog
and the bog down in the valley-o.

And on this limb there was a branch, a rare branch, a rattlin' branch
A branch on the limb ... etc.

And on this branch there was a twig, a rare twig, a rattlin' twig
Twig on the branch ... etc.

And on this branch there was a nest, a rare nest, a rattlin' nest
A nest on the branch ... etc.

And in this nest there was an egg, a rare egg, a rattlin' egg
Egg in the nest ... etc.

And on this egg there was a bird, a rare bird, a rattlin' bird
A bird on the egg ... etc.

And on this bird there was a wing, a rare wing, a rattlin' wing
A wing on the bird ... etc.

And on this wing there was a feather, a rare feather, a rattlin' feather
Feather on the wing ... etc.

And on this feather there was a bug, a rare bug, a rattlin' bug
A bug on the feather ... etc.

And on this bug there was a hair, a rare hair, a rattlin' hair
Hair on the bug ... etc.

And on this hair there was a moose, a rare moose, a rattlin' moose
Moose on the hair ... etc.  


7. The Recruiting Sergeant 

As I was walking down the road
A feeling fine and larky oh
A recruiting sergeant came up to me
Says he, you'd look fine in khaki oh
For the King he is in need of men
Come read this proclamation oh
A life in Flanders for you then
Would be a fine vacation oh

That may be so says I to him
But tell me sergeant dearie-oh
If I had a pack stuck upon my back
Would I look fine and cheerie oh
For they'd have you train and drill until
They had you one of the Frenchies oh
It may be warm in Flanders
But it's draughty in the trenches oh

The sergeant smiled and winked his eye
His smile was most provoking oh
He twiddled and twirled his wee mustache
Says he, I know you're only joking oh
For the sandbags are so warm and high
The wind you won't feel blowing oh
Well I winked at a cailin passing by
Says I, what if it's snowing oh

Come rain or hail or wind or snow
I'm not going out to Flanders oh
There's fighting in Dublin to be done
Let your sergeants and your commanders go
Let Englishmen fight English wars
It's nearly time they started oh
I saluted the sergeant a very good night
And there and then we parted oh


8. Ride On 

(Jimmy McCarthy) 

You ride the finest horse I've ever seen.
Standing sixteen, one or two, eyes wild and green.
You ride the horse so well, hands light to the touch.
I could never go with you no matter how I wanted to.

Chorus:
Ride on, see you.
I could never go with you
no matter how I wanted to.

When you ride into the night, without a trace behind.
Run your claw along my gut, one last time.
I turn to face an empty space where you used to lie.
And look for the spark that lights the night through the teardrop in my eye.


9. The Rising of The Moon 

Traditional 

"O then, tell me Sean O'Farrell, tell me why you hurry so"
"Hush, me Bouchall, hush and listen," and his cheeks were all aglow
I bear orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together at the risin' of the moon.

Chorus:
At the rising of the moon, oh the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together at the risin' of the moon

"O then, tell me Sean O'Farrell, where the gath'rin' is to be"
In the old spot by the river, right well known to you and me
One more word for signal token, whistle up the marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder, by the rising of the moon."

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through that night
Many a manly heart was throbbing for the blessed warning light
Murmurs passed along the valleys, like the banshee's lonely croon
And a thousand blades were flashing at the rising of the moon.

There beside the singing river, that dark mass of men were seen
Far above the shining weapons hung their own beloved green
Death to every foe and traitor, forward, strike the marching tune
And hurrah, my boys, for freedom, tis the rising of the moon.

Well, they fought for poor old Ireland, and full bitter was their fate
Oh what glorious pride and sorrow fills the name of ninety eight
Yes, thank God, e'en still are beating hearts in manhood's burning noon
Who would follow in their footsteps at the rising of the moon.  


10. Sleepin' Maggie 

Robert Tannahill. Music: Scottish Traditional 

1.Mirk and rainy is the nicht,
There's no a starn in a' the carry;
Lightnings gleam athwart the lift,
And the cauld winds drive wi' winter's fury.

Chorus:
O! are ye sleepin', Maggie?
O! are ye sleepin', Maggie?
Let me in, for loud the linn
Is roarin' o'er the warlock craigie!

2.Fearfu' soughs the boortree bank,
The rifted wood roars wild and drearie,
Loud the iron yett does clank,
And the cry o' howlets makes me eerie.

Chorus

3.Aboon my breath I daurna speak
For fear I rouse your waukrife daddie;
Cauld's the blast upon my cheek, -
Arise, arise, my bonnie lady!

Chorus

4.She op'd the door, she let him in;
He coost aside his dreepin' plaidie;
Blaw your warst, ye rain and win',
Since, Maggie, now I'm in aside ye.

Final Chorus:
Now since ye're waukin', Maggie,
Now since ye're waukin', Maggie,
What care I for howlet's cry,
For boortree bank, or warlock craigie?  

This song was written by the Paisley 
weaver Robert Tannahill, a younger 
contemporary of Robert Burns. 
The Tannahill Weavers have recorded 
it twice - on their first album Are Ye 
Sleeping Maggie (1976) and also on 
a recent album. A slower verson can 
be found on Ray Fisher's Willie's Lady (1982). 


11. Star of the County Down 

Traditional 

Near Banbridge town in the County Down
One morning last July
Down a boreen green came a sweet colleen
And she smiled as she passed me by.
She looked so sweet from her two bare feet
To the sheen of her nut brown hair
Such a coaxing elf, sure I shook myself
For to see I was really there.

CHORUS:
From Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay
And from Galway to Dublin town,
No maid I've seen like the brown colleen
That I met in the County Down!

She'd a soft brown eye and a look so sly
And a smile like the rose in June
And you hung on each note from her lily-white throat
As she lilted an Irish tune
At the pattern dance you were held in a trance
As she tripped thru a reel or a jig,
And when her eyes she'd roll, she'd coax, on my soul,
A spud from a hungry pig!

I've travelled a bit, but never was hit
Since my roving career began,
But, fair and square, I surrendered there
To the charms of young Rosie McAnn!
With a heart to let, and no tenant yet,
Did I meet in shawl or gown,
But in she went, and I asked no rent
From the Star of the County Down!

As she onward sped sure I scratched my head
And I looked with a feeling rare
And I says, says I, to a passer by,
"Who's the maid with the nut brown hair?"
He smiled at me and he said, said he,
"That's the gem of Ireland's crown.
Young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Ban,
She's the star of the County Down."

At the harvest fair she'll be surely there,
So I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
With my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked right
For a smile from my nut brown Rose
No pipe I'll smoke, no horse I'll yoke,
Till my plough is a rust coloured brown
Till a smiling bride by my own fireside
Sits the star of the County Down.  


12. Wha'll be King but Cherlie? 

Traditional 

CHORUS:
Come thru the heather, aroond and gather
Yer all a-welcomin' earlie
Aroond ( th' ben (?) ), we are your kin,
For wha'll be King but Cherlie?
Come thru the heather, aroond and gather
Yer all a-welcomin' earlie,
To crown your rightfu' lawfu' King,
For wha'll be King but Cherlie?

In news frae Moy that cam' last nicht
That soon gar mony fairly
For ships o' war hae just cam in
And landed Royal Cherlie!

And even clans wi' sword in hand
From John O' Groats tae Earlie
Hae, tae a man, declared tae stand
and follow Royal Cherlie!

The Lowlands all, baith great and sma'
Wi' mony a Lowland Laird
They declared for Scotland's King and Law
and spiel yer blud for Cherlie!

And here's a health tae Cherlie's cause
Be it completed early!
His very name would warm the hairt:
Tae Arms! For Royal Cherlie!  


13. Wife in Every Port

I.F.Benzie 

I'm sailin' awa in the morning, I'm sailing awa on the tide,
And when I return again, lassie will ye be my bride.
Will ye be m'bride m'boys will ye be m'bride.
And when I return again, lassie will ye be m'bride.

Laddie I will wail for you as long as m'life.
Laddie I will wail for you and I'll be a sailor's wife.
I'll be a sailor's wife m'boys, I''ll be a sailor's wife
Laddie I will wait for you and I'll be a sailor's wife.

Well the sun it shone and the wind it blew and the ship sailed out to sea
When she caught the eye of a soldier lad who was standing on the quay
Standing on the quay m'boys, standing on the quay
she caught the eye of a soldier lad who was standing on the quay.

And the storm it raged and the cannons roared and driving was the rain,
After 12 months at the sea he was homeward bound again.
Homeward bound again m'boys, homeward bound again,
After 12 months at the sea he was homeward bound again.

And there he met her at the docks with a baby in her arms,
Saying I'm sorry my sailor lad but I fell for a soldier's charms,
I fell for a soldier's charms m'boys, I fell for a soldiers charms,
Saying I'm sorry my sailor lad but I fell for a soldier's charms.

Don't you worry m'bonnie lass, was the sailor's bold retort,
No, don't you worry my bonnie lass, I've a wife in every port.
A wife in every port m'boys, a wife in every port,
Don't you worry m'bonnie lass, I've a wife in every port.  

 
14. MOVING ON SONG

(Ewan MacColl and Peggy Seeger)
 
Born in the middle of an afternoon
In a horse-drawn wagon on the old A5
The big twelve wheeler shook my bed
You can"t stop here the policeman said
You better get born someplace else
 
So move along, get along, move along, get along,
Go, move, shift
 
Born in the tatie lifting time
In an old bow tent in a tatie field
The farmer said, The work"s all done
It"s time that you were moving on
 
Born in a wagon on a building site
Where the ground was rutted by the trailer"s wheels
The local people said to me,
You"ll lower the price of property
 
Born at the back of a blackthorn hedge
When the white hoarfrost lay all around
No wise men came bearing gifts
Instead the order came to shift
 
The winter sky was hung with stars
And one shone brighter than the rest
The wise men came so stern and strict
And brought the order to evict
 
Wagon, tent, or trailer born
Last week, last year, or in far off days
Born here or a thousand miles away
There"s always men nearby who"ll say
 
 
15. MOLLY MALONE
 
In Dublin"s fair city where girls are so pretty
Twas there that I first met sweet Molly Malone
As she wheeled her wheelbarrow
Through street broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
 
Alive, alive oh, alive, alive oh,
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
 
Now she was a fishmonger and sure twas no wonder
For so were her mother and father before
And they each wheeled their barrows
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"
 
She died of a faver and no one could save her
And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
Now her ghost wheels her barrow
Through streets broad and narrow
Crying, "Cockles and mussels, alive, alive oh"

 
16. I"LL TELL ME MA
 
I"ll tell me ma when I get home
The boys won"t leave the girls alone
They pull my hair, they steal my comb
But that"s all right till I get home
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the belle of Belfast city
She is courting one, two, three
Hey, won"t you tell me, who is he?
 
Albert Mooney says he loves her
All the boys are fighting for her
Knock at the door and ring the bell
Hey, my true love, are you well
 
Out she comes as white as snow
Rings on her fingers, bells on her toes
Our Jenny Murry says she"ll die
If she doesn"t get the fellow with the roving eye
 
Let the wind and the rain and the hail go high
Snow come tumbling from the sky
She"s as nice as apple pie
She"ll get a fellow by and by
 
When she gets a lad of her own
She won"t tell her ma when she gets home
Let them all come as they will
It"s Albert Mooney she loves still


17. THE IRISH ROVER
 
In the year of our Lord, eighteen hundred and six
We set sail from the fair Cobh of Cork.
We were bound far away with a cargo of bricks
For the fine city hall of New York.
 
In a very fine craft, she was rigged fore-and-aft
And oh, how the wild winds drove her.
She had twenty-three masts and withstood several blasts
And we called her the Irish Rover.
 
There was Barney McGee from the banks of the Lee,
There was Hogan from County Tyrone.
And a chap called McGurk who was scared stiff of work
And a chap from West Meade called Mellone.
 
There was Slugger O"Toole who was drunk as a rule
And fighting Bill Casey from Dover.
There was Dooley from Claire who was strong as a bear
And was skipper of the Irish Rover.
 
We had one million bales of old billy goats" tails,
We had two million buckets of stones.
We had three million sides of old blind horses hides,
We had four million packets of bones.
 
We had five million hogs, we had six million dogs,
And seven million barrels of porter.
We had eight million bags of the best Sligo rags
In the hold of the Irish Rover.
 
We had sailed seven years when the measles broke out
And the ship lost her way in a fog.
And the whole of the crew was reduced unto two,
"Twas myself and the captain"s old dog. 
 
Then the ship struck a rock with a terrible shock
And then she heeled right over,
Turned nine times around, and the poor dog was drowned -
I"m the last of the Irish Rover. 

 
18. THE RATTLIN" BOG
 
Hey ho, the rattlin" bog
The bog down in the valley-o
The rare bog, the rattlin" bog
The bog down in the valley-o
 
Now in this bog there was a tree
A rare tree, a rattlin" tree
Tree in the bog and the bog down in the valley-o
 
Now on this tree there was a limb
A rare limb, a rattlin" limb
Limb on the tree, tree in the bog, and the bog down in the
valley-o...
 
branch, twig, nest, egg, bird, wing, 
feather, bug, eye, gleam
 
 
19. DIRTY OLD TOWN

(Ewan MacColl)
 
I found my love "neath the gasworks croft falls
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
Kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, dirty old town
 
Clouds are drifting across the moon
Cats are prowling on their beat
Springs a girl in the streets at night
Dirty old town, dirty old town
 
Heard a siren from the dock
Saw a train set the night on fire
Smelled the spring on the smoky wind
Dirty old town, dirty old town
 
I"m going to take a good sharp ax
Shining steel tempered in the fire
We"ll chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town, dirty old town
 

20. THE ROCKY ROAD TO DUBLIN
 
In the merry month of May from my home I started
Left the girls of Tuam nearly broken-hearted
Saluted Father dear, kissed my darlin" Mother
Drank a pint of beer my grief and tears to smother
Then off to reap the corn, and leave where I was born
I cut a stout blackthorn to banish ghost and goblin,
In a bran"new pair of brogues I rattled o"er the bogs
And frightened all the dogs on the rocky road to Dublin,
 
cho: One, two, three, four five, hunt the hare and turn her
Down the rocky roaad, and all the ways to Dublin
Whack fol-lol-de-ra.
 
In Mullingar that night I rested limbs so weary,
Started by daylight next morning light and airy,
Took a drop of the pure, to keep my heart from sinking,
That"s an frishman"s cure, whene"er he"s on for drinking,
To see the lasses smile, laughing all the while,
At my curious style, "twould set your heart a-bubbling,
They ax"d if I was hired, the wages I required,
Till I was almost tired of the rocky road to Dublin.
 
In Dublin next arrived, I thought it such a pity,
To be so soon deprived a view of that fine city,
Then I took a stroll out among the quality,
My bundle it was stole in a neat locality;
Something crossed my mind, then I looked behind,
No bundle could I find upon me stick a-wobblin",
Enquiring for the rogue, they said my Connaught brogue
Wasn"t much in vogue on the rocky road to Dublin.
 
From there I got away my spirits never failing,
Landed on the quay as the ship was sailing,
Captain at me roared, said that no room had he,
When I jumped aboard, a cabin found for Paddy
Down among the pigs, I played some funny rigs
Danced some hearty jigs, the water round me bubblin"
When off to Holyhead I wished myself was dead,
Or better far, instead, on the rocky road to Dublin.
 
The bovs of Liverpool, when we safely landed,
Called myself a fool, I could no longer stand it;
Blood began to boil, temper I was losin"
Poor old Erin"s isle they began abusin"
"Hurrah my soul!" sez I, my shillelagh I let fly,
Some Galway boys were by, saw I was a hobble in,
Then with a loud Hurrah, they joined in the affray,
We quickly cleared the way, for the rocky road to Dublin.


21. DONALD MACGILLAVRY
 
Donald"s gane up the hill hard and hungry,
Donald comes down the hill wild and angry;
Donald will clear the gouk"s nest cleverly,
Here"s to the king and Donald Macgillavry.
Come like a weighbauk, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like a weighbauk, Donald Macgillavry,
Balance them fair, and balance them cleverly:
Off wi"the counterfeit, Donald Macgillavry.
 
Donald"s run o"er the hill but his tether, man,
As he were wud, or stang"d wi" an ether, man;
When he comes back, there"s some will look merrily:
Here"s to King James and Dnnald Macgillavry.
Come like a weaver, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like a weaver, Dnnald Macgillavry,
Pack on your back, and elwand sae cleverly;
Gie them full measure, my Donald Macgillavry.
 
Donald has foughten wi" rief and roguery;
Donald has dinner"d wi banes and beggary,
Better it were for Whigs and Whiggery
Meeting the devil than Donald Macgillavry.
Come like a tailor, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like a tailor, Donald Macgillavry,
Push about, in and out, thimble them cleverly,
Here"s to King James and Donald Macgillavry.
 
Donald"s the callan that brooks nae tangleness;
Whigging and prigging and a"newfangleness,
They maun be gane: he winna be baukit, man:
He maun hae justice, or faith he"ll tak it, man.
Come like a cobler, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like a cobler, Donald Macgillavry;
Beat them, and bore them, and lingel them cleverly,
Up wi" King James and Donald Macgillavry.
 
Donald was mumpit wi mirds and mockery;
Donald was blinded wi" blads o" property;
Arles ran high, but makings were naething, man,
Lord, how Donald is flyting and fretting, man.
Come like the devil, Donald Macgillavry,
Come like the devil, Donald Macgillavry;
Skelp them and scaud them that proved sae unbritherly,
Up wi King James and Donald Macgillavry!


22. QUEEN OF ARGYLL
 
Gentle men it is my duty
To inform you of one beauty
Though I"d ask you of a favor,
Not to seek her for a while
Though I own she is a creature
Of character and feature
No words can paint the picture
of the Queen of all Argyll.
 
cho: And if you could have seen her there,
Boys if you had just been there
The swan was in her movement,
And the morning in her smile.
All the roses in the garden,
They bow and ask her pardon
For not one could match the beauty
Of the queen of all Argyll.
 
On that evening that I mention,
I passed with light intention
Through a part of our dear country
Known for beauty and for style
Being a place of noble thinkers,
Of scholars and great drinkers
But above them all for splendour
Shone the Queen of all Argyll
 
So my lads my needs must leave you,
My intention"s not to grieve you
Nor indeed would I decieve you,
Oh I"ll see you in a while
I must find some way to gain her,
To court her and to tame her
I fear my heart"s in danger
From the Queen of all Argyll


 23. RATTLIN ROARIN WILLIE

(Robert Burns)
 
O, rattlin, roarin Willie,
O, he held to the fair,
An for to sell his fiddle
An buy some other ware;
But parting wi" his fiddle,
The saut tear blin"t his e"e-
And rattlin, roarin Willie,
Ye"re welcome hame to me.
 
O Willie, come sell your fiddle,
O, sell your fiddle sae fine!
O Willie, come sell your fiddle,
And buy a pint o wine!
If I should sell my fiddle,
The warl" would think I was mad;
For monie a rantin day
My fiddle an I hae had.
 
As I cam by Crochallan,
I cannilie keekit ben;
Rattlin, roaring Willie,
Was sittin at yon boord-en";
Sitting at yon boord-en",
And amang guid companie;
Rattlin, roarin Willie,
Ye"re welcome hame to me.

 
24. CUNNLA

from the singing of Joe Heaney
 
O who is that out there knocking the ditches down
O who is that out there knocking the ditches down
O who is that out there knocking the ditches down
Nobody, only Cunnla
 
Cunnla dear, don"t come any nearer me
Cunnla dear, don"t come any nearer me
Cunnla dear, don"t come any nearer me
Maybe I shouldn"t, says Cunnla
 
Who is that down there tapping the windowpane
Nobody, only Cunnla
 
Who is that down there raking the fire for me
Nobody, only Cunnla
 
Who is that down there tickling the toes off me
Nobody, only Cunnla
 
Who is that down there pulling the blanket off
Nobody, only Cunnla


25. WILD ROVER
 
I"ve been a wild rover for many a year
And I spent all my money on whiskey and beer,
And now I"m returning with gold in great store
And I never will play the wild rover no more.
 
cho: And it"s no, nay, never,
No nay never no more,
Will I play the wild rover
No never no more.
 
I went to an ale-house I used to frequent
And I told the landlady my money was spent.
I asked her for credit, she answered me "nay
Such a custom as yours I could have any day."
 
cho:
 
I took from my pocket ten sovereigns bright
And the landlady"s eyes opened wide with delight.
She said "I have whiskey and wines of the best
And the words that I spoke sure were only in jest."
 
cho:
 
I"ll go home to my parents, confess what I"ve done
And I"ll ask them to pardon their prodigal son.
And if they caress (forgive) me as ofttimes before
Sure I never will play the wild rover no more.
 
cho: