Songs of Erin: A Collection of Fifty Irish Folk Songs : Op. 76 |
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Common terms and phrases
1st Voice 2nd Voice Album ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES Allegretto Andante Baritones Basses Bb to Eb Blackbird blue Boosey BOOSEY & CO bow'r breast bright bug-les they blow Cand Charles Knowles CHARLES VILLIERS STANFORD CHORUS City of Sligo Clare's cold colla cresc Dand EDITED BY J. A. Edward Lloyd English Words EVA TOOLE eyes F and G fair FAREWELL French morocco Gand grief Harry Dearth heart Hy-Brazil Ireland Irish Ivor Foster John McCormack land Lane Wilson limp lone Lough Lene lovely Anne ly Anne maid MELODY mf mf mo chu mo chuma moderato MUSIC night o'er paper cover Plunket Greene poco Price Queen remember the poor Robert Radford rose round sails Santley sigh Sims Reeves Songs sorrow star Sung sweet tempo Tenors thee ther thro Tonic Sol-fa turn'd Vive Wilfrid Douthitt
Popular passages
Page 108 - I'll rock you there to rosy rest, Asthore Machree! Oh, lulla lo! sing all the leaves On Slumber Tree, Till everything that hurts or grieves Afar must flee. I've put my pretty child to float Away from me, Within the new moon's silver boat On Slumber Sea. And when your starry sail is o'er From Slumber Sea, My precious one, you'll step to shore On Mother's knee. Alfred Perceval Graves...
Page 124 - Another Clare is here to lead, The worthy son of such a breed ; The French expect some famous deed, When Clare leads on his bold Dragoons. Our Colonel comes from Brian's race, His wounds are in his breast and face, The bearna baoghail* is still his place, The foremost of his bold Dragoons.
Page 210 - tis proud they're grown and high, With their hair-bags and their topknots — for I pass their buckles by. But it's little now I heed their airs, for God will have it so, That I must depart for foreign lands, and leave my sweet Mayo. 'Tis my grief that Patrick Loughlin is not Earl in Irrul still, And that Brian Duff no longer rules as Lord upon the Hill; And that Colonel Hugh MacGrady should be lying dead and low, And I sailing, sailing swiftly from the county of Mayo.
Page 6 - IF I WERE KING OF IRELAND. MY love's a match in beauty For every flower that blows ; Her little ear's a lily, Her velvet cheek a rose; Her locks, like gillygowans, Hang golden to her knee. If I were King of Ireland, My Queen she'd surely be. Her eyes are fond forget-me-not, And no such snow is seen Upon the heaving hawthorn bush As crests her bodice green.
Page 222 - I have sighed, And by mazy Culdaff with a laugh mocked the cuckoo's refrain, Derrycarn's dusky bird I have heard piping joy hard by pain, And the swan's last lament sobbing sent over Moyle's mystic tide. Yet as bright shadows pass from the glass of the darkening lake, As the rose's rapt sigh...
Page 14 - I'll ne'er again follow them over the lawn! His modest cheek blushed with the sun's rising ray, And he shone in his strength like the sun at midday: But a cloud of black darkness has hid him away ! And that cloud of black darkness shall cling to the skies, And never, ah!
Page 124 - O, Comrades, think how Ireland pines Her exiled lords and rifled shrines, Her dearest hope, the ordered lines, And bursting charge of Clare's Dragoons. Then fling your green flag to the sky, Be ' Limerick ' your battle cry ! And charge till blood...
Page 216 - The boast of heraldry, the pomp of power, And all that beauty, all that wealth ere gave, Await, alike, the inevitable hour ; — The paths of glory lead but to the grave.
Page 124 - When, on Ramillies' bloody field, The baffled French were forced to yield, The victor Saxon backward reeled Before the charge of Clare's Dragoons. The Flags we conquered in that fray Look lone in Ypres' choir, they say, We'll win them company to-day, Or bravely die like Clare's Dragoons.