GRACE
As we gather in the chapel here in Old Kilmainham Jail I think about these past few days, oh will they say we’ve failed From our schooldays they have told
Ah, well who wouldn’t be a sailor lad, a sailin’ on the main To gain the good will of his Captain’s good name He came ashore, one evening from the sea And
Chorus: Ho ro my nut-brown maiden, Hee ree my nut-brown maiden, Ho ro ro maiden, For she’s the maid for me Her eye so mildly beaming, Her look so frank and
And sing high Jeannie high, Sing low Jeannie low You can never make a singing bird Out of a hoodie crow My father was a gentleman, and a gentleman was he B
Young ladies have pity on me let me and your company mingle I once was a maiden so free and like you I was happy and single Me mother advised me to wed unt
I was dreamin’ of old Ireland and Killarneys lakes and dells I was dreamin’ of the shamrock, and the dear old Shandon Bells When my reverie suggested in a
O my name is Jock Stewart I’m a canny young man And a rovin’ young fellow I’ve been So be easy and free when you’re drinkin’ with me I’m a man you don’t me
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
Down beside the castle walls, where towers rise from the lake shore there within the castle halls, her story’s often told. Courted by a soldier boy, they s