Kevin Barry.
midi midi
 

   In Mountjoy jail one Monday morning, 
   High upon the gallow`s tree, 
   Kevin Barry gave his young life, 
   For the cause of liberty. 
   Just a lad of eighteen summers, 
   And yet no one and deny, 
   As he walked to death that morning, 
   He proudly held his head up high. 

   Just before he faced the hangman, 
   in his dreary prison cell, 
   British soldiers tortured Barry, 
   Just because he would not tell, 
   The names of his brave comrades, 
   And other things they wished to know, 
   "Turn informer or we`ll kill you", 
   Kevin Barry answered "No". 

   Calmly standing to attention, 
   While he bade his last farewell, 
   To his broken-hearted mother, 
   who`s sad grief, no one can tell. 
   For the cause he proudly cherished, 
   This sad parting had to be, 
   Then to death walked softly smiling, 
   That old Ireland might be free. 

   Another martyr for old Ireland, 
   Another murder for the Crown, 
   Whose brutal laws may kill the Irish, 
   But can`t keep their spirit down. 
   Lads like Barry are no cowards, 
   From the foe they will not fly, 
   Lads like Barry will free Ireland, 
   For her sake they`ll live and die.
 
[Note - A special section on Kevin Barry's recent funeral
is avaliable by clicking here.

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KITTY OF COLERAINE 

As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping, 
With a pitcher of milk from the fair of Coleraine, 
When she saw him she stumbled, the pitcher it tumbled, 
And all the sweet buttermilk watered the plain. 
Oh! What shall I do now, 'twas looking at you now, 
Sure, sure, such a pitcher I'll ne'er meet again. 
'Twas the pride of my dairy, Oh, Barney McCleary, 
You're sent as a plague on the girls of Coleraine. 

He sat down beside her and gently did chide her, 
That such a misfortune should give her such pain. 
A kiss then he gave her, and before he did leave her, 
She vowed for such pleasure, she'd break it again. 
'Twas haymaking season, I can't tell the reason, 
Misfortune will never come single 'tis plain, 
For very soon after poor Kitty's disaster, 
The divil a pitcher was whole in Coleraine. 

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KIMMAGE 

There were three lovely lasses from Kimmage, 
From Kimmage, from Kimmage 
And whenever there's a bit of a scrimmage 
Sure, I was the toughest of all 
Sure, I was the toughest of all. 

Now the cause of the row was Joe Cashin 
Joe Cashin', Joe Cashin' 
For he told me he thought I looked smashin' 
At a dance in the Adelaide Hall, 
At a dance in the Adelaide Hall. 

When he gets a few jars he goes frantic 
Oh frantic, oh frantic 
But he's tall and he's dark and romantic 
And I love him in spite of it all, 
And I love him in spite of it all. 

Now the other two young ones were flippin', 
Were flippin', were flippin'' 
When they saw me and Joe and me trippin' 
To the strains of the Tennessee Waltz, 
To the strains of the Tennessee Waltz. 

Now he told me he thought we should marry, 
Should marry, should marry, 
For he said it was foolish to tarry, 
So I lent him the price of the ring, 
So I lent him the price of the ring, 

Now me da says he'll give us a present, 
A present, a present, 
An oul' stool and a lovely stuffed pheasant, 
And a picture to hang on the wall, 
And a picture to hang on the wall. 

I went down to the Tenaney Section, 
The Section, the Section, 
The T.D. just before the election, 
Said he'd get me a house near me ma, 
Yes, he'd get me a house near me ma. 

Well we're gettin' the house, the man said it 
He said it, he said it, 
When I've five or six kids to my credit 
In the meantime we'll live with me ma, 
In the meantime we'll live with me ma. 

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KATHLEEN MAVOURNEEN 
(Anne Crawford and Frederick W. Nicolls Crouch)
midi
 

Kathleen Mavourneen! the grey dawn is breaking 
The horn of the hunter is heard on the hill, 
The lark from her light wing the bright dew is shaking 
Kathleen Mavourneen--what, slumbering still! 
O hast thou forgotten how soon we must sever? 
O hast thou forgotten this day we must part? 
It may be for years, and it may be forever; 
Oh, why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart? 
It may be for years, and it may be forever; 
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen? 

Kathleen Mavourneen! awake from thy slumbers 
The blue mountains glow in the sun's golden light, 
Ah! Where is the spell that once hung on my numbers? 
Arise in thy beauty, thou star of my night. 
Mavourneen, mavourneen, my sad tears are falling 
To think that from Erin and thee I must part. 
It may be for years, and it may be forever; 
Oh, why art thou silent, thou voice of my heart? 
It may be for years, and it may be forever; 
Then why art thou silent, Kathleen Mavourneen? 


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KELLY OF KILLANE(Kelly the boy from Killane)
midi

What's the news, what's the news, oh my bold Chevalier
With your long barrelled gun of the sea?
Say what wind from the south blows his messenger here
With a hymn of the dawn for the free
Goodly news, goodly news, do I bring youth of forth
Goodly news shall you hear, Bargy man
For the boys march at morn from the south to the north
Led by Kelly the boy from Killane

Tell me who is that giant with gold curling hair
He who rides at the head of your band?
Seven feet is his height, with some inches to spare
And he looks like a king in command
Ah my lads that's the pride of the bold chevaliers
'Mong our greatest of heroes, a man!
Fling your beavers aloft and give three ringing cheers
For John Kelly, the boy from Killane

Enniscorthy's in flames, and old Wexford is won
And the Barrow tomorrow we cross
On ahill o'er the town we have planted a gun
That will batter the gateway of Ross
All the Forth men and Bargy men march o'er the heath
With brave Harvey to lead on the van
But the foremost of all in the grim Gap of Death
Will be Kelly, the boy from Killane

But the gold sun of freedom grew darkened at Ross
And it set by the Slaneys red waves
And poor Wexford stript naked hung high on a cross
And her heart pierce by traitors and slaves
Glory O! Glory O! to her brave sons who died
For the cause of long down-trodden man!
Glory O! to Mount Leinster's own darling and pride
Dauntless Kelly, the boy from Killane

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KERRY DANCE, THE
midi midi

Chorus:
Oh, the days of the Kerry dancing
Oh, the ring of the piper's tune
Oh, for one of those hours of gladness
Gone, alas, like our youth, too soon!

When the boys began to gather
In the glen of a summer's night
And the Kerry piper's tuning
Made us long with wild delight!
Oh, to think of it
Oh, to dream of it
Fills my heart with tears!

Chorus

Was there ever a sweeter Colleen
In the dance than Eily More
Or a prouder lad than Thady
As he boldly took the floor

Lads and lasses to your places
Up the middle and down again
Ah, the merry hearted laughter
Ringing through the happy glen!
Oh, to think of it
Oh, to dream of it
Fills my heart with tears!

Chorus

Time goes on, and the happy years are dead
And one by one the merry hearts are fled
Silent now is the wild and lonely glen
Where the bright glad laugh will echo ne'er again
Only dreaming of days gone by in my heart I hear

Loving voices of old companions
Stealing out of the past once more
And the sound of the dear old music
Soft and sweet as in days of yore

When the boys began to gather
In the glen of a summer's night
And the Kerry piper's tuning
Made us long with wild delight!
Oh, to think of it
Oh, to dream of it
Fills my heart with tears!

Chorus

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KERRY RECRUIT, THE

About four years ago, I was digging the land
with my brogues on my feet and my spade in my hand
says I to myself what a pity to see
Such a fine strapping lad footing turf in Tralee

Chorus:
Wid me toora na nya, and me toora na nya
Wid me toora na noora na noora na nya

So I buttoned my brogues and shook hands with my spade
and I went to the fair like a dashing young blade
When up comes the sergeant and asks me to 'list
"Arra, Sergeant, a gra, put the bob in my fist"

And the first thing they gave me it was a red coat
with a wide strap of leather to tie round my throat
They gave me a quare thing, I asked what was that
and they told me it was a cockade for my hat

The next thing they gave me, they called it a gun
with powder and shot and a place for my thumb
And first she spit fire and then she spit smoke
Lord, she gave a great lep and my shoulder near broke

The next place they sent me was down to the sea
On board of a warship bound for the Crimea
Three sticks in the middle all rowled round with sheets
Faith, she walked thro' the water without any feet

We fought at the Alma, likewise Inkermann
but the Russians they whaled us at the Redan
In scaling the walls there myself lost my eye
and a big Russian bullet ran off with my thigh

It was there I lay bleeding, stretched on the cold ground
heads, legs and arms were scattered all around
Says I, if my man or my cleaveens were nigh
they'd bury me decent and raise a loud cry

They brought me the doctor, who soon staunched my blood
and he gave me an elegant leg made of wood
They gave me a medal and tenpence a day
contented with Sheela, I'll live on half-pay

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