Sleep O babe for the red bee hums
The silent twilight falls
Aoibheall from the grey rock comes
To wrap the world in thrall
A leanbhan O my child my joy
My own my heart’s desire
The crickets sing you lullaby
Beside the dying fire

Dusk is drawn and the Green Man’s Horn
Is wreathed in rings of fog
Siabhra sails his boat till morn
Across the starry bog
A leanbhan O the paly moon
Hath ringed her cusp in dew
And weeps to hear the sad sweet tune
I sing my love to you

Musik: Traditionell
Text: Seosamh MacCathmhaoil
= Joseph Campbell

Hen dôn garol Gymreig: trad. Wales

Cwrw Melyn (yellow beer): trad. Wales

Pant Côrlan yr Wyn (the lambs fold vale): Polka, trad. Wales

I once loved a maid and I loved her so well
That I hated all others who spoke of her ill
And now she’s rewarded me well for my pains
For she’s gone to be wed to another

When I saw my love to the church go
With her maids and bride maidens she made a fine show
And I followed on with my heart full of woe
For she’s to be wed to another

Then I saw my love sit down to dine
Well I sat down beside her I poured out her wine
And I drank to the girl that should have been mine
But she was now wed to another

The boys of the forest they ask it of me
“How many strawberries grow in the salt sea?”
And I ask it them back with a tear in my eye
‘How many ships sail in the forest?’

Go dig me a grave I let ye dig it sae deep
And cover it over with flowers so sweet
And I close my poor eyelids forever in sleep
And maybe in death I’ll forget her

There were four whores of Baltimore
Drinking the blood red wine
And all the conversation was
“Yours is smaller than mine!”

    Timme roly poly tickle me holey
    Smell o’ me slimy slough
    And drag your nuts across me guts
    I’m one of the whorey crew

“You’re a liar” said the first whore
“Mine’s as big as the air.
The birds fly in, the birds fly out,
And never touch a hair.”

    Timme roly poly tickle me holey…

“You’re a liar” said the second
“Mine’s as big as the sea.
The ships sails in, the ships sails out,
Never troubles me.”

    Timme roly poly tickle me holey…

“You’re a liar!” said the third whore
“Mine’s as big as the moon.
The men jumped in, the men jump out,
Never touch the womb.”

    Timme roly poly tickle me holey…

Swab your decks me hearties
Slice them up with pride
Light your oars you sons of whores
Yours is smaller than mine

“You’re a liar!” said the last whore,
“Mine’s the biggest of all.
The fleet sailed in on the first of June,
And didn’t come back till fall.”

    Timme roly poly tickle me holey…

In winter fire is beautiful
Beautiful like a song
In winter snow is beautiful
All of the winter long
But you little son come safely home
Riding the tail of the wind
May you always come this safely home
In winter fire and snow

The day gets dark uneasily
Darker and darker still
And you are gone to Carnevale
And I feel the winter chill
But you little son come safely home
Riding the tail of the wind
May you always come this safely home
In winter fire and snow

In winter fire is beautiful
Beautiful like a song
In winter snow is beautiful
All of the winter long
All of the winter long

Text: Macdara Woods,
adaptiert von Brendan Graham
Musik: Brendan Graham

    Heel yo ho boys let her go boys
    Heave her head round into the weather
    Heel you ho boys let her go boys
    Sailing homeward to Mingulay

What care we though white the Minch is?
What care we boys for wind or weather
When we know that every inch is
Closer homeward to Mingulay?

    Heel yo ho boys let her go boys…

Wives are waiting by the pier head
Gazing seaward from the heather
Heave her head round that we’ll anchor
’Ere the sun sets on Mingulay

    Heel yo ho boys let her go boys…

Ships return now heavy laden
Mothers holding bairns a-crying
They’ll return though when the sun sets
They’ll return to Mingulay

    Heel yo ho boys let her go boys…

Words & Music: Hugh S. Roberton

Where true lovers meet beneath the green bower
Where true lovers meet out beneath the green tree
And Mary fond Mary she says unto her true love
You have stolen my young heart by the Banks of the Lee

Don’t stay out too late love on the moorlands my Mary
Don’t stay out too late love on the moorlands for me
But it’s little was my notion when we parted by the ocean
That we were forever parting by the Banks of the Lee

    For I loved her very dearly most truly and sincerely
    There is no-one in this wide world I loved more than she
    Every bush and every bower every wild Irish flower
    Reminds me on my Mary on the banks of the Lee

I will pull my love some roses some wild Irish flowers
I will pull my love some roses the fairest to see
And I lay them on the graveside of my own dear darling Mary
On that cold and silent grave where she sleeps ’neath the dew

    For I loved her very dearly most truly and sincerely…

    With me wack fol the do fol the diddery idle day!

As I went down to Galway town to seek for recreation
On the seventeenth of August me mind being elevated
There was multitudes assembled with their tickets at the station
Me eyes began to dazzle as we’re going to see the races

There was passengers from Limerick and men from Tipperary
The boys from Connemara and the Clare unmarried maidens
There were people from Cork city who were loyal true and faithful
They brought home the Fenian prisoners from dying in foreign nations

It’s there you’ll see the pipers and the fiddlers competing
The nimble-footed dancers and they’re tripping over the daisies
There was others crying, ”Cigars and lights and bills of all the races!”
And the colours of the jockeys and they’re mounted on their horses

It’s there you’ll see the jockeys and they mounted out most stately
The blue the pink the orange and green the emblems of our nation
When the bell was rung for starting all the horses seemed impatient
It seemed they never stood on ground their speed was so amazing

There was half a million people there of all denominations
The Catholics the Protestants the Jew the Presbyterians
There was yet no animosity no matter what persuasion
But sportsmen hospitality inducing fresh acquaintance

And now me throat is dry and I mean to end me song
Success attend the sport of Kings since racing first begun
I’ve been to all the races and I’ve seen all the places
But I know that I’ll return again to see the Galway Races

’Twas down by the glenside
I met an old woman
A-plucking young nettles
She ne’er 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 mainly forms
Their eyes with hope gleaming
I see them again
Through all my sad dreaming
Glory o glory o to the bold Fenian men

Some died by the hillside
Some died with the stranger
And wise man have told us
Their cause was a failure
But they loved their 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
I will never forget her
We may have brave man
But we’ll never have better
Glory o glory o to the bold Fenian men

Words & Music: Peadar Kearney

Rachael Rae: Reel compsed by John Lowe,
published 1794 by Archibald Duff in 'A Collection of Strathspey Reels &c.'

Streams Of Abernethy: Jig composed by Wendy Stewart
published 1994 by Wendy Stewart in 'About Time: Music for the Clarsach'

On the idle hill of summer
Sleepy with the flow of streams
Far I hear the steady drummer
Drumming like a voice in dreams
Far and near and low and louder
On the roads on the roads of earth go by
Dear to friends and food for powder
Soldiers march marching all to die

To east and west on fields forgotten
Bleach the bones bleach the bones of comrades slain
Lovely lads and dead and rotten
None that go none that go return again
Far the calling bugles hollo
And high the screaming the screaming fife replies
See the files of scarlet follow
On the road marching under falling skies

Far and near and low and louder
On the roads on the roads of earth go by
Dear to friends and food for powder
Soldiers march marching all to die

Words: Alfred Edward Housman
Music: trad. “Busk Busk Bonnie Lassie”

Fareweel to a’ our Scottish fame
Fareweel our ancient glory
Fareweel even to our Scottish name
Sae famed in martial story
Now Sark rins over the Salway sands
An’ Tweed rins to the ocean
To mark where England’s province stands
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation

What force or guile could not subdue
Thro’ many warlike ages?
Is wrought now by a coward few
For hireling traitor’s wages
The English steel we could disdain
Secure in valour’s station
But English gold has been our bane
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation

O would or I had seen the day
That Treason thus could sell us
My auld gray head had lien in clay
Wi’ Bruce and loyal Wallace
But pith and power till my last hour
I’ll mak this declaration
“We’re bought and sold for English gold”
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation

Lyrics: Robert Burns 1791
Music: published 1817

A maid went to Comber, her markets to learn
To sell for her mammy three hanks of fine yarn
She met with a young man along the highway
Which caused this young damsel to tarry and stray.

    “Sit down beside me, I’ll do you no harm,
    Sit down beside me, this new tune to learn!
    Here are three guineas, your mammy to pay
    If you lay by your yarn till the next market day.”

She sat down beside him, the grass was so green
And the day was the fairest that ever was seen
“The look in your eye beats a morning in May.
I could sit by your side till the next market day.”

    “Sit down beside me...

Now, as she went homeward, the words that he said
And the tune that he played her still rang in her head
She said, “I’ll go find him by land or by sea
And he’ll learn me the tune called ‘The Next Market Day’”.

    “Sit down beside me...

A Blacksmith courted me nine months and better
He fairly won my heart wrote me a letter
With his hammer in his hand oh he looked quiet clever
And if I was with my love I could live forever

But where has my love gone with his cheeks like roses
And his good black billycock on all crowned with primroses?
I’m afraid the scorching sun will shine and burn his beauty
And if I was with my love I’d do my duty

Strange news has come to town strange news is carried
Strange news flies up and down that my love is married
I wish them both much joy though they can’t hear me
And may God reward him well for the slighting of me

Don’t you remember when you lay beside me?
And you said you’d marry me and not deny me
If I said I’d marry you it was only for to try you
But bring your witness love and I’ll not deny you

Oh witness have I none save God almighty
And may he reward you well for the slighting of me
Her lips grew pale and wan it made her poor heart tremble
To think she loved the one and he proved deceitful