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GILGARRY MOUNTAIN

(There's whiskey in the jar)

As I was a going over Gillgarry Mountain,
I spied Colonel Farrell and his money he was countin'.
First I drew me pistol and then I drew me rapier,
Sayin' stand and deliver for I am your bold receiver.
cho: Well shirigim duraham da
Wack fall the daddy oh, wack fall the daddy oh
There's whiskey in the jar.
He counted out his money and it made a pretty penny,
I put it in me pocket to take home to darling' Jenny.
She sighed and swore she loved me and never would deceive me
But the devil take the women for they always lie so easy.
I went into me chamber all for to take a slumber
To dream of gold and girls and of course it was no wonder.
Me Jenny took me charges and she filled them up with water,
Called on colonel Farrell to get ready for the slaughter.
Next morning early before I rose to travel,
There came a band of footmen and likewise Colonel Farrell.
I goes to draw me pistol for she'd stole away me rapier,
but a prisoner I was taken I couldn't shoot the water.
They put me into jail with a judge all a writin'
For robbing Colonel Farrell on Gilgarry Mountain.
But they didn't take me fists so I knocked the jailer down,
And bid a farewell to this tight fisted town.
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'd go roving o'r the mountains of Killkenney,
And I swear he'd treat me better than me darling' sporting Jenny.
There's some takes delight in the carriages and rolling,
Some takes delight in the hurley or the bowlin'.
But I takes delight in the juice of the barley,
Courting pretty maids in the mourning oh so early. 

LARK IN THE MORNING
The lark in the morning she arises from her nest
And she ascends all in the air with the dew upon her breast
And with the pretty ploughboy she'll whistle and she'll sing
And at night she'll return to her own nest again
When his day's work is over, oh what then will he do
Perhaps then into some country wake he'll go
And with his pretty sweetheart, he'll dance and he'll sing
And at night he'll return with his love back again
And as they returned from the wake unto the town
The meadows they are mowed and the grass it is cut down
The nightingale she whistles upon the hawthorn spray
And the moon it is a shining upon the new mown hay
Good luck unto the ploughboys wherever they may be
They will take a winsome lass for to sit upon their knee
And with a jug of beer boys, they'll whistle and they'll sing
And the ploughboy is as happy as a prince or a king

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.

THE GALWAY SHAWL

At Orenmore in the County Galway,
One pleasant evening in the month of May,
I spied a damsel, she was young and handsome
Her beauty fairly took my breath away.
Cho: She wore no jewels, nor costly diamonds,
No paint or powder, no, none at all.
But she wore a bonnet with a ribbon on it
And round her shoulder was a Galway Shawl.
We kept on walking, she kept on talking,
'Till her father's cottage came into view.
Says she: 'Come in, sir, and meet my father,
And play to please him " The Foggy Dew."
She sat me down beside the fire
I could see her father, he was six feet tall.
And soon her mother had the kettle singing
All I could think of was the Galway shawl.
I played "The Blackbird" and "The Stack of Barley",
" Rodney's Glory" and "The Foggy Dew",
She sang each note like an Irish linnet.
Whilst the tears stood in her eyes of blue.
'Twas early, early, all in the morning,
When I hit the road for old Donegal.
She said 'Goodby, sir,'she cried and kissed me,
And my heart remained with that Galway shawl

THE FOGGY DEW (revolutionary)
'Twas down the glen one Easter morn
To a city fair rode I.
When Ireland's line of marching men
In squadrons passed me by.
No pipe did hum, no battle drum
Did sound its dread tattoo
But the Angelus bell o'er the Liffey's swell
Rang out in the foggy dew.
Right proudly high over Dublin town
They hung out a flag of war.
'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky
Than at Suvla or Sud el Bar.
And from the plains of Royal Meath
Strong men came hurrying through;
While Brittania's sons with their long-range guns
Sailed in from the foggy dew.
'Twas England bade our wild geese go
That small nations might be free.
Their lonely graves are by Suvla's waves
On the fringe of the grey North Sea.
But had they died by Pearse's side
Or fought with Valera true,
Their graves we'd keep where the Fenians sleep
'Neath the hills of the foggy dew.
The bravest fell, and the solemn bell
Rang mournfully and clear
For those who died that Eastertide
In the springing of the year.
And the world did gaze in deep amaze
At those fearless men and true
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine through the foggy dew.
Note: from the Easter Uprising of 1916

WILD COLONIAL BOY

There was a wild colonial youth, Jack Doolan was his name
> Of poor but honest parents, he was born in Castlemaine
He was his father's only hope, his mother's only joy
The pride of both his parents was the wild colonial boy
Come all my hearties, we'll range the mountainside
Together we will plunder, together we will ride
We'll scour along the valleys and gallop o'er the plains
We'll scorn to live in slavery, bowed down in iron chains
In sixty-one this daring youth commenced his wild career
With a heart that knew no danger, no foeman did he fear
He held up the Beechworth mailcoach and he robbed Judge MacEvoy
Who trembled and gave up his gold to the wild colonial boy
One day as he was riding the mountainside along
Alistening to the little birds their pleasant laughing song
Three mounted troopers came in view - Kelly, Davis, and Fitzroy
And thought that they would capture him, the wild colonial boy
"Surrender now, Jack Doolan, you see there's three to one
Surrender now, Jack Doolan, you daring highwayman"
He drew a pistol from his belt and spun it like a toy
"I'll fight, but I won't surrender," said the wild colonial boy
He fired at trooper Kelly and brought him to the ground
And in return from Davis received a mortal wound
All shattered through the jaws, he lay still firing at Fitzroy
And that's the way they captured him, the wild colonial boy 

BLACK VELVET BAND

In a neat little town they call Belfast
An apprentice boy I was bound
And many's the happy hour
I have spent in that neat little town
But bad misfortune o'ertook me
And caused me to stray from the land
Far away from my friends and relations,
Betrayed by the black velvet band
Oh, one evening late as I rambled
Not meaning to go very far,
When I met with a gay young deceiver
She was plyin' her trade in a bar.
Oh, her eyes they shone like the diamonds
And I thought her the pride of the land
And her hair hung over her shoulders
Tied up with a black velvet band.
Oh, one evening a flashman, a watchman
She happened to meet on the sly
I could tell that her mind it was altered
By the roll of her roving dark eye
Oh, that watch she took from his pocket
She slipped it right into my hand
Then she gave me in charge to the policeman
Bad luck to the black velvet band
Now before the Lord Mayor I was taken
My guilt they proved quite plain
And he said if I was not mistaken
I should have to cross the salt main
Now its sixteen long years have they gave me
To plough upon Van Dieman's land
Far away from my friends and relations
A curse on the black velvet band
So come all ye jolly young fellows,
I'll have ye take warning from me
Whenever you're out on the liquor,
Beware of them pretty colleens.
They'll treat you to whiskey and porter,
Till you are not able to stand;
And the very next thing that you know, my lads,
You'll end up in Van Dieman's land.