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Description
Make yourself comfortable ... this is nearly six minutes long and plumbs new depths of melancholy. :-) It's an Irish emigrant song originating in the early 19th century, when Ireland was in economic crisis and thousands crossed the sea to Canada in search of a better life. (My own ancestors went the wrong way and we've been in south west England ever since.)
This song is dedicated to a very dear friend, Nigel Cole, who died last month. He shared my love of folk music and introduced me to dozens of wonderful songs, including this one.
Nigel, my only regret is that I didn't get to record your fiddle-playing, which would have been the perfect complement to this old tune.
This song is dedicated to a very dear friend, Nigel Cole, who died last month. He shared my love of folk music and introduced me to dozens of wonderful songs, including this one.
Nigel, my only regret is that I didn't get to record your fiddle-playing, which would have been the perfect complement to this old tune.
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Lyrics
Farewell to the groves of shillelagh and shamrock
Farewell to the lads of old Ireland all round
May their hearts be as merry as ever I would wish them
When far away across the ocean I'm bound
Oh my father is old and my mother quite feeble
To leave their own country it grieves their hearts sore
Oh the tears in great drops down their cheeks they are rolling
To think they must die on a foreign shore
But what matters to me where my bones may be buried
If in peace and contentment I can spend my life
Oh the green fields of Canada they daily are blooming
It's there I'll put an end to my misery and strife.
The lint dams are dry and the looms are all broken,
The coopers are gone and the winders of creels
Away o'er the ocean go journeymen tailors
And fiddlers who flaked out the old mountain reels.
Farewell to the dances in homes now deserted
Where tips struck the lightening in splanks from the floor
The paving and crigging of hobnail on flagstone
The tears of the old folk and shouts of encore.
For the landlords and bailiffs in vile combination
Have forced us from hearthstone and homestead away
May the crowbar brigade all be doomed to damnation
When we're on the fields of Americay.
splanks = sparks
Americay = old Irish name for North America
Farewell to the lads of old Ireland all round
May their hearts be as merry as ever I would wish them
When far away across the ocean I'm bound
Oh my father is old and my mother quite feeble
To leave their own country it grieves their hearts sore
Oh the tears in great drops down their cheeks they are rolling
To think they must die on a foreign shore
But what matters to me where my bones may be buried
If in peace and contentment I can spend my life
Oh the green fields of Canada they daily are blooming
It's there I'll put an end to my misery and strife.
The lint dams are dry and the looms are all broken,
The coopers are gone and the winders of creels
Away o'er the ocean go journeymen tailors
And fiddlers who flaked out the old mountain reels.
Farewell to the dances in homes now deserted
Where tips struck the lightening in splanks from the floor
The paving and crigging of hobnail on flagstone
The tears of the old folk and shouts of encore.
For the landlords and bailiffs in vile combination
Have forced us from hearthstone and homestead away
May the crowbar brigade all be doomed to damnation
When we're on the fields of Americay.
splanks = sparks
Americay = old Irish name for North America
drakonis
Slowly sings darkness and the hopelessness of fate to my
bones. Wow, very nicely done! Two comments first...
because your gorgeous voice is so prominent, you have to
be very careful to get any pops/clicks removed between
versus, because in this sparse mix, they distract more
than normal (and I thought I heard a couple)... and also,
even though this is long, it got me into a dreamy trance
following your voice and the drone, and when the last
verse ended, so did the music, and the trance, almost too
suddenly. I would like you to drop me more gently... what
if after the last verse, you did one more line's worth of
music with just the violin, retracing the whisps of the song
one last time before ending? This was gorgeous, by the
way, you keep getting better and better... Loreena
McKennitt's gotta watch her back, being in Canada may
not save her from the upcoming Rebsie!
ttfn,
Drakonis, lost at sea now...