DIE WE MUST
Die we must and go to dust,
But let us all be merry;
Let us drink the cocktail down
And let us eat the cherry.
Though we win across the sea,
Let us not be tired;
Yon's the blue and hazy line
Of the lands desired.
Fill the jolly bowl again,
And to hell with sorrow;
We may be the lucky men
At the cards to-morrow.
Darkness brings another day,
So let us sing a chorus;
Though we reach the edge of earth,
There's the sea before us.
White are all the cities there,
All the streets are golden;
All the bonny maids are fair,
Only unbeholden.
Aft the sheet and let her ride
From Vallipo to Trond-em;
Seas are salt and seas are wide,
But the land's beyond them.
Blue and slapping run the waves,
Ebbing out or flowing;
Let us go to life or graves,
Let's at least be going.
Wolfe T. McGowan
THE COMING OF SPRING
From the Irish of Raftery's 'County Mayo' by Padraic Colum
Now, coming on Spring the days will be growing,
And after Saint Bride's day my sail I will throw,
Since the thought has come to me I fain would be going
Till I stand in the middle of the County Mayo.
The first of my days will be spent in Claremorris,
And in Balla down from it I'll have drinking and sport;
To Kiltimagh then I shall go on a visit,
And there, I can tell you, a month will be short.
I solemnly swear that the heart in me rises
As the wind rises up and the mist breaks below;
When I think upon Carra and Gallen down from it,
The Bush of the Mile and the Plains of Mayo.
Killeadean's my village and every good's in it,
There's blackberries, rasberries and all kinds of fruit.
And if Raftery stood in the midst of his people,
Old age would go from him and he'd be in his youth.
THE LONE WOMAN
When sleep would settle on me,
Like the wild bird down on the nest
The wind tears out of the West.
It batters the door, maybe,
And chases away my rest
When sleep would settle on me.
Oul' man, you built on the lea
Your house, and its door to the sea
With every bad tool in the chest.
Ochon, there's the wind on my breast,
It tears at the door, d'ye see
And batters away my rest,
When sleep would settle on me,
Like the wild bird down on the nest!
Oul' man, may you lie with the blest!
Padraic Colum
A LONG TIME AGO
(Hilliards Chanty)
A long, long time, and a long time ago,
To me way hay, Ohio;
A long, long time, and a long time ago,
A long time ago.
A Smart Yankee packet lay out in the bay,
To me way hay, Ohio;
A-waiting for a fair wind to get under way,
A long time ago.
With all her poor sailors all sick and all sore,
To me way hay, Ohio;
For they'd drunk all their lime-juice, and could get no more,
A long time ago.
With all her poor sailors all sick and all sad,
To me way hay, Ohio;
For they'd drunk all their lime-juice, and no more could be had,
A long time ago.
She was waiting for a fair wind to get under way,
To me way hay, Ohio;
She was waiting for a fair wind to get under way,
A long time ago.
If she hasn't had a fair wind she's lying there still,
To me way hay, Ohio;
If she hasn't had a fair wind she's lying there still,
A long time ago.
THE BARD ON THE BODACH
Translated from the Irish Seumas O'Kelly,
May a messenger come from the high place of God
To bear up your soul to a throne,
But a robber be robbing him on his way back,
And your fall be as dead as a stone.
May your tables be laden with gold and with jewels,
And your hands be upon them for proof;
When the devil whips in by your beggarly door
And tears your red soul through the roof.
SHE MOVED THROUGH THE FAIR
My young love said to me, 'My parents won't mind
And my brothers won't slight you for your lack of kind;'
And she went away from me, and this she did say,
'It will not be long, love, till our marriage-day.'
She stepped away from me and she moved through the fair,
And fondly I watched her move here and move there;
She went her way homewards with one star awake,
As the swan in the evening moves over the lake.
The people were saying, no two were e'er wed,
But one had a sorrow that never was said;
And I smiled as she passed with her goods and her gear,
And that was the last that I saw of my dear.
I dreamt that last night my young love came in,
So softly she entered her feet made no din;
And she came close beside me and this she did say,
It will not be long, love, till our marriage-day.'
Padraic Colum
CARRICKNABAUNA
There was an oul' trooper went riding by
On the road to Carricknabauna,
And sorrow is better to sing than cry
On the way to Carricknabauna;
And as the oul' trooper went riding on
He heard this sung by a crone, a crone,
On the road to Carricknabauna.
'I'd spread my cloak for you, young lad,
Were it only the breath of a farthen,
And if your mind was as good as your word,
In troth it's you I'd rather.
In dread of any jealousy
And before we go any farther,
Hoist me up to the top of the hill
And show me Carricknabauna.'
'Carricknabauna, Carricknabauna!
Would you show me, Carricknabauna?
I lost a horse at Cruckmoylinn,
At Bunratty I dropped a limb,
But I left my youth on the crown of the hill,
Over by Carricknabauna.'
Padraic Colum.
THE BANKS OF THE SACREMENTO
In the Black Ball Line I served my time,
To me hoodah. To me hoodah;
In the Black Ball Line I served my time,
So hurrah for the Black Ball Line.
Blow, my bullies, blow
For California O.
There's plenty of gold,
So I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacremento.
From Lime house Docks to Sydney Heads,
To me hoodah. To me hoodah;
From Lime house Docks to Sydney Heads,
So hurrah for the Black Ball Line.
Blow, my bullies, blow
For California O.
There's plenty of gold,
So I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacremento.
We were never more than seventy days,
To me hoodah. To me hoodah;
We were never more than seventy days,
So hurrah for the Black Ball Line.
Blow, my bullies, blow
For California O.
There's plenty of gold,
So I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacremento.
We cracked it on, on a big skiute,
To me hoodah. To me hoodah;
We cracked it on, on a big skiute,
So hurrah for the Black Ball Line.
Blow, my bullies, blow
For California O.
There's plenty of gold,
So I've been told,
On the banks of the Sacremento.