Bonnie Dundee

Tae the Lords o' Convention Lord Calverhouse spoke. "Ere the King's crown go down there are crowns to be broke. So each gay cavalier who loves honour and me, Let him follow the bonnets of Bonnie Dundee."

Chorus: Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can. Come saddle my horses and call out my men. Unhook the Westport and let us gae free. For it's up wi' the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee.

Dundee he is mounted and he rides up the street. The bells tae ring backward and the drums they are beat. But the provost, douce man, says to just let him be For the toon is well rid o' that devil Dundee.

Chorus

There are hills beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth. There are lords in the south, there are chiefs in the north. There are brave duinnewassals three thousand times three That cry "Hey!" for the bonnets o' Bonnie Dundee.

Chorus

"So awa' tae the hills, tae the lee and the rocks. Ere I own a usurper, I'll couch wi' the fox. So tremble false Whigs in the midst o' your glee For ye've not seen the last of my bonnets or me.

Chorus twice

Erin Gra' Mo Chroi

At the setting of the sun when my long day’s work was done I went down upon the seashore for a walk And I being all alone I sat down upon a stone For to gaze on the scenes of New York.

Chorus: Erin gra mo chroi, you’re the dear old land to me You’re the fairest that my eyes have ever seen And if ever I go home, it’s from you I never will roam My own native land far away.

With the turf fire burning bright on a cold dark winter’s night And the snowflakes falling gently to the ground When St. Patrick’s Day has come, my thoughts will carry me home To that dear little isle so far away

Chorus

On the day that I did part, well it broke my mother’s heart Will I ever see my dear ones anymore? Not until my bones are laid in that cold and silent grave In my own native land so far away

Chorus

Far Away in Australia

Sweetheart I bid you a fond farewell. I will return someday. I'm bound for a new land my fortune to try And I'm ready to sail away.

Chorus: Far away in Australia Soon will fate be kind. And I will be ready to welcome at last The girl I left behind.

"No you can't leave me," this poor maiden said. "I will not let you go." "But I must leave you," he gently replied. "It's only a while you know."

Chorus

"Now in success or in failure I will always be true. And proudly each day in the land far away I'll be building a home for you."

Chorus

Daily she waits at the old cottage gate Watching the whole day through. Till one day a message from over the sea And I'm hoping these words are true.

Chorus: Far away in Australia Now has come the time And I am ready to welcome at last The girl I left behind.

Arthur McBride

I had a first cousin called Arthur McBride, he and I took a stroll down by the seaside A-seeking good fortune and what might betide, 'twas just as the day was a-dawning. And then after resting we took a wee tramp, we met Sergeant Harper and Corporal Cramp Besides the wee drummer who beat up for camp with his rowdy-dow-dow in the morning.

He says, "My young fellows, if you will enlist, a guinea you quickly will have in your fist besides a crown for to kick up the dust and drink the King's health in the morning." Had we been such fools as to take the advance the wee bitter morning we had run to chance For you'd think it no scruple to send us to France where we would be killed in the morning.

He says, "My young fellows, if I hear but one word, I instantly now will draw out with my sword And into your bodies as strength will afford. So now my gay devils take warning." But Arthur and I we took in the odds, we gave them no chance to lunge out their swords. Our whackin' shillelaghs came over their gourds and paid them right smart in the morning.

As for the wee drummer we rifled his pouch and madev a football of his rowdy-dow-dow. And into the ocean to rock and to row and bade hime a tedious returning. As for the old rapier that hung by his side we flung it as far as we could in the tide. "To the devil I bid you," says Arthur McBride, "to temper your steel in the morning."

Spancil Hill

Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by My mind being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly. I stepped on board a steamer and I followed with a will. And next I came to anchor at the cross on Spancil Hill.

It bein' the twenty-third of June The day before the fair When Ireland's sons and daughters In great numbers gatheredthere The young, the old, the brave and the bold Came their duty to fulfill At the parish church in Clooney A mile from Spancil Hill

I went to see my neighbors To see what they might say The old ones were all dead and gone The young ones turning gray I met the tailor Quigley He's a rogue as ever still He used to make my breeches when I lived in Spancil Hill

I paid a flying visit to My first and only love She's as white as any lily As gentle as the dove She threw her arms around me Saying, "Charlie, I love you still" Ah, she's yet the farmer's daughter and The pride of Spancil Hill

I dreamt I knelt and kissed her As in the days of yore "Ah, Charlie, you're only dreaming, Like ten thousand times before" Then the cock he crew in the morning Ah, he crew both loud and shrill And I woke in Californ-eye-ay Many miles from Spancil Hill

Gypsy Rover

The gypsy rover came over the hill Down through the valley so shady. He whistled and he sang till the greenwoods rang And he won the heart of a lady.

Chorus: Ah-de-doo, ah-de-doo-dah-day. Ah-de-doo, ah-de-day-de. He whistled and he sang till the greenwoods rang And he won the heart of a lady.

She left her father's castle gates. She left her own fine lover. She left her servants and her state To follow the gypsy rover.

Chorus

Her father saddled up his fastest steed And roamed the valleys all over. He sought his daughter at great speed And the whistling gypsy rover.

Chorus

He came at last to a mansion fine Down by the river Claydee And there was music and there was wine For the gypsy and his lady.

Chorus

"He is no gypsy, my father", she said, "But lord of these lands all over. And I shall stay till my dying day With my whistling gypsy rover."

Chorus

First verse

McAlpine's Fusiliers

As down the Glen came Mcalpine's men with their shovels slung behind them. It was in the pub that they drank their sub or down in the spike you'll find them. We sweated blood and we washed down mud with quarts and pints of beer. But now we're on the road again with McAlpines Fusiliers.

I stripped to the skin with Darky Finn way down upon the Isle of Grain, With Horseface O'Toole we knew the rule, no money if you stopped for rain. McAlpine's god is a well filled hod, your shoulders cut to bits and seared And woe to he who looks for tea with McAlpines Fusiliers.

I remember the day that the Bear O'Shea fell into a concrete stair, What Horseface said, when he heard the news, it wasn't what the rich call prayers. "I'm a navvy short," was his one retort that reached unto my ears, When the going is rough, well you must be tough, with McAlpine's Fusiliers.

I've worked till the sweat near had me beat with Russian, Czech and Pole, At shuttering jams up in the Hydro Dams, or underneath the Thames in a hole, I grafted hard and I got me cards and many a ganger's fist across me ears. If you pride your life, don't join, by Christ, with McAlpine's Fusiliers.

Ye Jacobites By Name

Chorus: Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear, lend an ear. Ye Jacobites by name lend an ear. Ye Jacobites by name, your faults I must proclaim, Your doctrines I Maun blame, ye shall hear, ye shall hear. Your doctrines I maun blame ye shall hear.

What is right, what is wrong by the law, by the law. What is right, what is wrong by the law? What is right, what is wrong, the weak arm or the strong. The short sword and the long for to draw, for to draw. The short sword and the long for to draw.

Chorus

What makes heroic strife famed afar, famed afar? What makes heroic strifr famed afar? What makes heroic strife tae whet the assassin's knife And wreck a parent's life wi' bloody war, bloody war? And wreck a parent's life wi' bloody war?

Chorus

So leave each man alone to the state, to the state. So leave each man alone to the state. So leave each man alone to adore the rising sun. And leave a man undone to his fate, to his fate. And leave a man undone to his fate.

Chorus twice

As I Roved Out

And who are you, me pretty fair maid And who are you, me honey? And who are you, me pretty fair maid And who are you, me honey? She answered me quite modestly, "I am me mother's darling."

Chorus: With me too-ry-ay Fol-de-diddle-day Di-re fol-de-diddle Dai-rie oh. Or similar nonsense

And will you come to me mother's house, When the sun is shining clearly ( repeat ) I'll open the door and I'll let you in And divil 'o one would hear us.

Chorus

So I went to her house in the middle of the night When the moon was shining clearly ( repeat ) Shc opened the door and she let me in And divil the one did hear us.

Chorus

She took me horse by the bridle and the bit And she led him to the stable ( repeat ) Saying "There's plenty of oats for a soldier's horse, To eat it if he's able."

Chorus

Then she took me by the lily-white hand And she led me to the table ( repeat ) Saying "There's plenty of wine for a soldier boy, To drink it if you're able."

Chorus

Then I got up and made the bed And I made it nice and aisy ( repeat ) Then I got up and laid her down Saying "Lassie, are you able?"

Chorus

And there we lay till the break of day And divil a one did hear us ( repeat ) Then I arose and put on me clothes Saying "Lassie, I must leave you."

Chorus

And when will you return again And when will we get married ( repeat ) When broken shells make Christmas bells

Chorus twice (it wasn't silly enough the first time)

The Wind That Shakes the Barley

He sat within a valley green Sat there with his true love His fond heart strove to choose between The old love and the new love The old for her, the new that made him think on Ireland dearly While soft the wind blew down the glade And shook the golden barley

Twas hard the mournful words to frame To break the ties that bound them Ah, but harder still to bear the shame Of foreign chains around them And so he said, "The mountain glen I'll seek at morning early And join the brave united men" While soft wind shook the barley

Twas sad he kissed away her tears Her arms around him clinging When to his ears that fateful shot Come out the wildwood ringing The bullet pierced his true love's breast In life's young spring so early And there upon his breast she died While soft wind shook the barley

He bore her to some mountain stream And many's the summer blossom he placed with branches soft and green About her gore-stained bosom He wept and kissed her clay-cold corpse Then rushed o'er vale and valley His vengeance on the foe to wreak While soft wind shook the barley

Twas blood for blood without remorse he took at Oulart Hollow He placed my true love's clay-cold corpse Where his full soon may follow Around her grave he wondered drear Noon, night and morning early With aching heart when e'er he hears The wind that shakes the barley

Mingulay Boat Song

Chorus: Heel yo ho boys; let her go boys; Bring her head around into the weather. Heel yo ho boys, let her go boys. Sailing homeward to Mingulay.

What care we though, white the Minch is? What care we for wind or weather? Let her go boys, every inch is Sailing homeward to Mingulay.

Chorus

Wives are waiting by the harbour. They've been waiting since break of day. Pull her round boys, then you'll anchor Ere the sun sets on Mingulay

Chorus

Ships return now, heavy laden Mothers holdin' bairns a -cryin' They'll return though when the sun sets They'll return to Mingulay.

Chorus

James Connolly

A large crowd had gathered outside of Kilmainham With heads all uncovered they knelt on the ground. For inside that grim prison lay a true Irish hero His life for his country about to lay down.

He went to his death like a true son of Ireland The firing party he bravely did face. When the order rang out "Present arms and fire!" James Connolly fell into a ready-made grave.

The black flag was hoisted, the cruel deed was over And gone was the man that loved Ireland so well. There was many a sad heart in Dublin that morning When they murdered James Connolly the Irish Rebel.

The Four Courts of Dublin the British bombarded, The spirit of freedom they tried hard to quell. But above all the din came the cry, "No surrender!" 'Twas the voice of James Connolly, the Irish Rebel.

Many years have gone by since that Easter Rebellion When the guns of Britannia so loudly did speak. And the bold IRA marched shoulder to shoulder As the blood from their bodies flowed down Sackville Street.

God's curse on you England, you cruel hearted monster Your deeds they could shame all the devils in hell. There's no love for you here but the shamrock's still growin' O'er the grave of James Connolly, the Irish Rebel.

Follow Me Up To Carlow

Lift MacCahir Og your face brooding o'er the old disgrace That black FitzWilliam stormed your place, drove you to the Fern. Grey said victory was sure, soon the firebrand he'd secure; Until he met at Glen Malure with Fiach Ma Hugh O'Byrne.

Chorus: Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach will dare. Now FitzWilliam have a care, Fallen is your star, low. Up with halberd out with sword, On we'll go for by the lord, Fiach Ma Hugh has given the word, Follow me up to Carlow.

See the swords of Glen Imayle, flashing o'er the English Pale. See all the children of the Gael beneath O'Byrne's banners. Rooster of a fighting stock, would you let a Saxon cock Crow out upon an Irish rock? Fly up and teach him manners.

Chorus

From Tassagart to Clonmore there flows a stream of Saxon gore. Och, great is Rory Oge O'More sending the loons to Hades. White is sick and Lane is fled, now for black FitzWilliams head We'll send it over, dripping red, to Queen Liza and the ladies.

Chorus

Down By The Glenside

'Twas down by the glenside I met an old woman She was picking young nettles and she scarce saw me coming. I listened awhile 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.

When I was a young girl their marching and drilling Awoke in the glenside sounds awesome and thrilling. They loved dear old Ireland, to die they were willing. Glory O, Glory O to the bold Fenian men.

Some died by the glenside, some died near a stranger And wise men have told us 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 went on my way, God be praised that I met her. Be it 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 (repeat).