1. |
Doomsday
01:59
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Behold with awful pomp
The judge prepares to come
The archangel sounds the dreadful trump
And wakes the general doom.
Nature in wild amaze
Her dissolution mourns
Blushes of blood the moon deface
The sun to darkness turns.
The living look with dread
The frighted dead arise
Start from the monumental bed
And lift their ghastly eyes
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2. |
Rags Upon the Poddle
05:14
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Young William Reilly was by trade,
A weaver bould lived on the Coombe,
For many years so sportingly,
He hopped the treadles of his loom,
He wrought away both night and day,
His work did never cockle¹,
Till he fell in love with Mary Neil,
Who sold rags upon the Poddle².
Oh, young Willie for to gain this maid
Immediately contrived a plan,
Said he "I'll go and court Miss Neil,
For I means to prove meself a man,
A tommy³ I wants very bad,
So to get one off I'll toddle
And I'll buy it from young Mary Neil,
That sells rags upon the Poddle.
Oh, Mary says he, me dearest dear,
Oh, If with me you will combine,
For to join our hands in wedlock bands,
Happy I'd be to style you mine.
Mother will give a stock of clothes,
To keep you from all trouble,
And I'll never let you any more,
Sell auld rags upon the Poddle.
Young Will sez she, don't make so free,
For to marry yet I'm not inclined,
As for to wed a weaver bould,
It never once did cross me mind,
So take this for your answer,
And do me no more trouble,
Nor I will sell you no more rags,
While I sits upon the Poddle.
Young Willie drooped and hung his head
When he got this sad denial,
When up there steps a brewers man,
All ready to defy him.
"Mary" sez he, "come 'long with me,
For I means to wet your throttle,
And I'll never let you anymore,
Sell auld rags upon the Poddle"
Well, she embraced his offer in a crack,
And off they went together,
On a jaunting cart so stately sat,
With a dandy hat and a feather,
They keeps a house in Golden-lane,
Where quarts and glasses rattle,
And she does not care what people say,
'bout old rags upon the Poddle.
Young William Reilly heart full sore,
Went home and did his shuttle throw
But of late he courts a spinning girl
Who turns a wheel in Pimlico
To salute her heart so free from guile,
Willie cracked a flowing bottle
And he thinks no more on Mary Neil,
And auld rags upon the Poddle.
1 - cockle = wrinkled like the shell of a cockle, to shrink up.
2 - Poddle = (An Poitéal), an ancient stream of Dublin.
Although Anglicised as Poddle by the English it was invariably pronounced Pottle by the citizens of Dublin up to the latter half of the 19th century.
3 - tommy = a front and collar doing duty for a full shirt.
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3. |
Lassie Lie Near Me
04:20
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Lang hae we partit been
Lassie my dearie
Noo we are met again
Lassie lie near me
Near me, near me
Lassie lie near me
Lang hast thou lain thy lane
Lassie lie near me
Frae draed Culloden’s fields
Bloody and dreary
Mourning my country’s fate
Lanelie and weary
Weary, weary, lanelie and weary
Become a sad banished wight
Far frae my dearie
Loud loud the wind did roar
Stormy and eerie
Far from my native shore
Danger stood near me
Near me, near me
Danger stood near me
Now I’ve escaped them a’
Lassie lie near me
All that I have endured
Lassie my dearie
Here in thine arms is cured
Lassie lie near me
Near me, near me
Lassie lie near me
Lang hast thou lain thy lane
Lassie lie near me.
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4. |
Lord Landless
03:55
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Oh whither away Lord Landless said she
My mossy banks why pass over
Maiden, the landless must wanderer be
No world is too wide for the rover
Heigh ho onwards I go
No world is too wide for the rover
On what do you feast Lord Landless said she
My honey and oaten cakes scorning
Flocks of white fowls on the nights dark dream
I slay with my long sword of morning
Heigh ho bosoms of snow
I slay with my long sword of morning
And where do you sleep Lord Landless said she
My thatch it would be mean abiding
Rock of the mountain and wave of the sea
Make pillows for head under hiding
Heigh ho the stilly and flow
Make pillows for head under hiding
And who is your love Lord Landless said she
What fair lady sighs for the rover
Kisses are yours if you journey with me
Far from your own bonny lover
Heigh ho girl will you go
Far from your own bonny lover
A-walking went she
With Landless and free
O'er highways and byways they travelled
Weary maid down by the brink of the sea
She sleepeth on green grey gravel
Heigh ho heart full of woe
She sleepeth on green grey gravel
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5. |
Farewell to Fiunary
03:18
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The wind is fair, the day is fine
And swiftly, swiftly goes the time;
A boat is waiting on the tide
To waft me far from Fiunary
(Chorus)
We must up and haste away,
We must up and haste away,
We must up and haste away,
Farewell, farewell to Fiunary.
A thousand, thousand tender ties,
Wake within my mournful sighs;
My heart within me almost dies
At thoughts of leaving Fiunary.
As I leave these happy vales,
See, they spread their flapping sails.
Adieu, adieu my native dales,
Farewell, farewell to Fiunary.
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Landless Dublin, Ireland
Landless are Lily Power, Meabh Meir, Ruth Clinton and Sinead Lynch. Formed in 2013 and based in Dublin and Belfast, they sing unaccompanied traditional songs in four-part harmony.
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