NY Irish Mailing List
Songs




Date:  Sun, 13 Jan 2002 22:33:18 -0700
From:  Nancy I Baker 

One of my favorites is:  "James O'Shea was cast away   upon an Indian Isle the natives there they liked his hair     they  liked his Irish smile. They made him chief candandrum, the nabob of them all     They called him "Jigaboojay" and they decked him out to gay   that he wrote to Dublin Bay to his sweetheart just to say    Oh I have rings on my fingers and bells on my toes with elephants to ride upon, my little Irish Rose.  So come to your nabab and on next Patrick's day    be Mistress Mumbo Jumbo Jigaboo Jay O'Shea.

"So, Rose McGee sailed cross the sea to wed her nabob grand.  -------a line I can't remember------and when he kissed her hand,  he led her to his harem where he had wives galore.   He saw her shedding a tear.   Said he, 'Love, have no fear.  I'm keeping these wives here just for ornament my dear.   For
I've got rings on my fingers and bells on my toes and elephants to ride upon, my little Irish rose. So come to your nabob and on next Patrick's Day, be Mistress Mumbo Jumbo Jigaboo Jay     O'Shea'".       Remember?

From: "jfw" 
Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2002 22:28:21 -0500

        The Daddy of them all:
        EAST SIDE, WEST SIDE
        All around the town.
        Children play ring-around-Rosie,
        London Bridge is falling down.
        Girls and boys together---
        Me and Johnnie O'Rourke---
        We'll trip the light fantastic
        On the sidewalks of New York.

        IN OLD NEW YORK, IN OLD NEW YORK
        The peach crop's always fine;
        They're sweet and fair
        and on the square --
        the maids of Manhattan for mine.
        You cannot see in gay Paree,
        in London or in Cork,
        the queens you'll meet on any street
        in Old New York.

        Cheers,
        Judy

From: GRDMABEACH
Date: Mon, 14 Jan 2002 23:31:11 EST

        How about this...
        East side, west side
        All around the town
        The ???s played ring-a-round-Rosie
        London bridges falling down
        Boys and girls together
        Me and Mamie O'Rourke
        We skipped the lig -ht fantastic on 
        The Sidewalks of New York

        Don't know if they still use it. Thanks for all the fun memories.
        I was born in Brooklyn, raised in Queens, now live in Florida
        Visited NY last summer and loved every minute of it.
        Mary

From: DGreen
Date: Tue, 15 Jan 2002 02:28:38 EST

        I just got to thinking about the Irish music. I thought I would add here that 
        when I was in High School I was a member of an Irish Dance team. That was 
        soooo much fun. 
        The song East side west side, I remember a little different. I have added my 
        memory in blue below.

        << The Daddy of them all:
         EAST SIDE, WEST SIDE
         All around the town.
         Children play ring-around-Rosie,
         London Bridge is falling down.
         Girls and boys together---  boys and girls together
         Me and Johnnie O'Rourke---  Me and Mimi O"Rourke
         We'll trip the light fantastic   trip the lights fantastic
         On the sidewalks of New York.

        Also does anyone remember...

        My Wild Irish Rose
        the sweetest flower that grows
        you can search everywhere, 
        but none can compare
        to my wild Irish rose.

From: "Gerald and Agnes Marvin" 
Date: Tue, 15 Jan 2002 07:39:37 -0500

        I recall the words a little differently, but I could be wrong.  In either
        case, it's nice to remember!

        East Side, West Side
        All around the town.
        The TOTS play ring-around-Rosie,
        London Bridge is falling down.
        Girls and boys together
        Me and MAMIE O'Rourke
        We tripped the light fantastic
        On the sidewalks of New York.
 
 

From: ROGUE
Date: Tue, 15 Jan 2002 09:56:45 EST
 

        Down in front of Casey's
        Old brown wooden stoop,
        On a summer's evening,
        We formed a merry group;
        Boys and girls together,
        We would sing and waltz,
        While the "ginnie" played the organ
        On the Sidewalks of New York.
        East side, west side,
        All around the town,
        The tots sang "Ring-a-Rosie,"
        "London Bridge is Falling Down."
        Boys and girls together,
        Me and Mamie O'Rourke,
        Tripped the light fantastic,
        On the sidewalks of New York.

        That's where Johnny Casey
        And little Jimmy Crowe,
        With Jakey Krause the baker,
        Who always had the dough;
        Pretty Nellie Shannon,
        With a dude as light as cork,
        First picked up the waltzstep
        On the Sidewalks of New York.
        East side, west side,
        All around the town,
        The tots sang "Ring-a-Rosie,"
        "London Bridge is Falling Down."
        Boys and girls together,
        Me and Mamie O'Rourke,
        Tripped the light fantastic,
        On the sidewalks of New York.

        Things have changed since those times,
        Some are up in "G,"
        Others, they are wand'rers,
        But they all feel just like me;
        They'd part with all they've got,
        Could they but once more walk,
        With their best girl and have a twirl
        On the Sidewalks of New York.
        East side, west side,
        All around the town,
        The tots sang "Ring-a-Rosie,"
        "London Bridge is Falling Down."
        Boys and girls together,
        Me and Mamie O'Rourke,
        Tripped the light fantastic,
        On the sidewalks of New York.

From: DGreen
Date: Tue, 15 Jan 2002 16:43:03 EST

        Irish Eyes

        When Irish eyes are smiling,
        Sure it's like a morning Spring.
        In the lilt of Irish laughter,
        You can hear the Angels sing.
        When Irish hearts are happy,
        All the world seems bright and gay.
        And when Irish eyes are smiling,
        Sure, they steal your heart away. 
        --------------------------------------------------------------
        I sang this at Lakeview High School in the Accapella Choir in the early 70's. 
        It was listed as "Traditional Irish Snog"

        Sally Gardens

        It was down by the Sally Gardens, my love and I did meet.
        She crossed the Sally Gardens with little snow-white feet.
        She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
        But I was young and foolish, and with her did not agree.

        In a field down by the river, my love and I did stand
        And on my leaning shoulder, she laid her snow-white hand.
        She bid me take life easy , as the grass grows on the weirs
        But I was young and foolish, and now am full of tears.

        Down by the Sally Gardens, my love and I did meet.
        She crossed the Sally Gardens with little snow-white feet.
        She bid me take love easy, as the leaves grow on the tree,
        But I was young and foolish, and with her did not agree.
        ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

        ----
        Grandfathers Clock
        my mom taught me this when I was young.

        My Grandfather's clock was too tall for the shelf 
        so it stood ninety years on the floor
        It was taller by half than the old man himself, 
        but it weighed not a penny weight more
        It was bought on the morn of the day he was born
        and was always his pleasure and pride
        But it stopped short never to run again
        when the old man died 

        In childhood and manhood, the clock seemed to know
        and to share both his grief and his joy
        For it struck twenty-four as he entered through the door,
        with his blushing and beautiful bride,
        But it stopped, short, never to go again,
        when the old man died.
        ------------------------------------------------------------------------
        Molly Malone
        In Dublin's fair city, where the girls are so pretty
        I first set my eyes on sweet Molly Malone,
        As she wheeled her wheel barrow, through streets broad and narrow,
        Crying cockles and mussels a-live a-live Oh

        Chorus
        A-live, a-live oh, a-live a-live oh,
        Crying cockles and mussels a-live a-live oh

        She was a fishmonger, and sure twas no wonder,
        For so were her father and mother before
        And they both wheeled their barrows, through streets broad and narrow, 
        Crying cockles and mussels a-live a -live oh

        Chorus

        She died of a fever, and no one could save her
        And that was the end of sweet Molly Malone
        But her ghost wheels her barrow through streets broad and narrow
        Crying cockles and mussels a-live a -live oh

        Chorus
        -------------------------------------------------------------------
        Paddy's Day March?

        Sure is the same old shillelagah my father brought from Ireland
        and never a man was prouder than him when he walked with it in his hand
        he'd lead the band on Paddy's Day and twirl it 'round his mitt
        And never a bit we'd laugh at it or Dad would have a fit. 

        It seems there is another verse, but this is all I remember

From: "jfw" 
Date: Tue, 15 Jan 2002 17:11:34 -0500

        DID YOUR MOTHER COME FROM IRELAND
        cause there's something in you Irish;
        will you tell me where you got those Irish eyes?
        And before she left Killarney, 
        did your mother kiss the Blarney;
        cause that little touch of brogue you can't disguise.
        Oh, I wouldn't be romancin'
        I can almost see you dancin'
        while the Kerry pipers play.
        Sure, and maybe I'll be sharin'
        in the shamrock you'll be wearin'
        on the next St. Patrick's Day.
        Did your mother come from Ireland
        cause there's something in you Irish;
        and that bit of Irish steals my heart away.




Date:  Tue, 15 Jan 2002 16:31:41 -0700
From:  Cara_Links 
 
 

I'll Tell Me Ma

I'll tell me ma when I go home
The boys won't leave the girls alone
They pulled my hair, they stole my comb
But that's all right till I go home.
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the bell of Belfast city
She is counting one, two, three
Please won't you tell me who is she.

Albert Mooney says he loves her
All the boys are fighting for her
They knock at the door and they ring at the bell
Sayin' "Oh my true love, are you well?"
Out she comes as white as snow
Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
Old John Murray says she'll die
If she doesn't get the fellow with the roving eye.

I'll tell me ma when I go home
The boys won't leave the girls alone
They pulled my hair, they stole my comb
But that's all right till I go home.
She is handsome, she is pretty
She is the bell of Belfast city
She is counting one, two, three
Please won't you tell me who is she.

Let the wind and rain and the hail blow high
And the snow come tumblin' from the sky
She's as nice as apple pie
She'll get her own lad by and by.
When she gets a lad of her own
She won't tell her ma when she goes home
Let them all come as they will
For it's Albert Mooney she loves still.

From: PNUTREG 
Date: Tue, 15 Jan 2002 22:35:53 EST

        Hi Everyone!

        Here is one of my All Time Favorites and a great one up at the Maxville Games 
        when we are all having a "Ball" after a couple of Foaming Glasses of Beer!  I 
        am sure it was also a big one in NYC as it was a favorite at the Irish Pubs 
        in Syracuse, NY.  They even sing it down here in Sunny Florida.

        DANNY BOY

        Oh Danny boy, the pipes, the pipes are calling
        From glen to glen, and down the mountain side
        The summer's gone, and all the flowers are dying
        'tis you, 'tis you must go and I must bide.

        But come you back when summer's in the meadow
        Or when the valley's hushed and white with snow
        'tis I'll be there in sunshine or in shadow
        Oh Danny boy, oh Danny boy, I love you so.

        And if you come, when all the flowers are dying
        And I am dead, as dead I well may be
        You'll come and find the place where I am lying
        And kneel and say an "Ave" there for me.

        And I shall hear, tho' soft you tread above me
        And all my dreams will warm and sweeter be
        If you'll not fail to tell me that you love me
        I simply sleep in peace until you come to me.

From: Plantinga 
Date: Wed, 16 Jan 2002 11:55:58 EST

        Here's another song.  I thought it would show up, but it hasn't.  Don't know 
        the name.

        'Tis my delight, on Saturday night
        To ramble, don't you see
        With all the boys and all the girls
        Who work downtown with me
        There's an organ in the parlor
        To give the house a tune
        And your welcome every evening
        At Maggie Murphy's home

        My grandparents and I would sing it all the time.

From: Flogeorge 
Date: Wed, 16 Jan 2002 19:26:22 EST

        How about this from the World War II days?
        Johnny Doughboy found a rose in Ireland
        Sure the fairest rose that Erin ever grew
        The blarney in her talk, Took him back to old New York,
        Where his mother spoke the sweetest Irish too.
        Johnny Doughboy found a rose in Ireland,
          ? 
        He said,  "Darling it's my duty,  to make an American Beauty,
        Of a sweet Irish rose like you!"

From: "Linda T." 
Date: Fri, 18 Jan 2002 08:12:26 -0500

        Irish Lullaby

        Over in Killarney,
        Many years ago,
        Me mither sang a song to me
        In tones so sweet and low.
        Just a simple little ditty,
        In her good ould Irish way,
        And I'd give the world if she could sing
        That song to me this day.
        Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
        Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
        Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
        Hush, now don't you cry!
        Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
        Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
        Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
        That's an Irish lullaby.

        Oft, in dreams I wander
        To that cot again,
        I feel her arms a huggin' me
        As when she held me then.
        And I hear her voice a humin'
        To me as in days or yore,
        When she used to rock me fast asleep
        Outside the cabin door.
        Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
        Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
        Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
        Hush, now don't you cry!
        Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
        Too-ra-loo-ra-li,
        Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral,
        That's an Irish lullaby.
 

        The Wearing of the Green
        by Dion Boucicault (1820-1890)
        The Wearin' Of The Green
        "O Paddy dear, and did ye hear the news that's goin' round?
        The shamrock is by law forbid to grow on Irish ground!
        No more Saint Patrick's Day we'll keep, his color can't be seen
        For there's a cruel law ag'in the Wearin' o' the Green."
        I met with Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand
        And he said, "How's poor old Ireland, and how does she stand?"
        "She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen
        For they're hanging men and women there for the Wearin' o' the Green."

        "So if the color we must wear be England's cruel red
        Let it remind us of the blood that Irishmen have shed
        And pull the shamrock from your hat, and throw it on the sod
        But never fear, 'twill take root there, though underfoot 'tis trod.
        When laws can stop the blades of grass from growin' as they grow
        And when the leaves in summer-time their color dare not show
        Then I will change the color too I wear in my caubeen
        But till that day, please God, I'll stick to the Wearin' o' the Green."

        "But if at last our colour should be torn from Ireland's heart,
        Our sons with shame and sorrow from this dear old isle will part;
        I've heard a whisper of a land that lies beyond the sea
        Where rich and poor stand equal in the light of freedom's day.
        O Erin, must we leave you driven by a tyrant's hand?
        Must we ask a mother's blessing from a strange and distant land?
        Where the cruel cross of England shall nevermore be seen,
        And where, please God, we'll live and die still wearing of the green
 
 


 
 
 
 
 
 

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