Irish Lyrics And Guitar Chords G - J

Irish Folk Song Lyrics And Chords With Titles From G - J

Folk And Pop Guitar Tabs Ebooks in standard tuning

The Galway Shawl
Dermot O'Brien

The Galway Races
Dubliners And The Pogues

The Gallant Morrow
Robert Morrow

The Galway Rebel Boys
The Wild Geese

The Green Hills Of Clare
Kate Purcell

The Green Fields Of Canada
Cherish The Ladies / Mary Dillon

The Green Field Around Ferbane
Fiddle And Bow Song Included

Greenland Whale Fisheries
The Clancy Bros / The Pogues

The Green And The Blue
The Battlefield Band

The Girl From Donegal
Bridie Gallagher

Gerry Gilmore
Seoirse MacDomhaill

Gilderoy

Ghosties And Ghoulies

Gold And Silver Days
Phil Coulter / Paddy Reilly

The Golden Jubilee
Emerald Folk Group

Hail Glorious Saint Patrick
The Wolfe Tones

The Hills Of Connemara
Johnny McEvoy

Hills Of Glenswilly

Hills Of Knocknashee
Seamus Moore

The Hills Of Killenaule

The Harp That Once Through Tara's Halls
John McCormack

Henry My Son
Martin Dardis

The Homes Of Donegal
Evelyn Gallagher

Home By Bearna
Christy Moore

Home By Sean Keane

The Humour Is On Me Now

Heartland By Celtic Thunder

I Wish I Was Back On The Farm
The Worzels

H-Block To Maghaberry
Pól Mac Adam

I n Shame Love In Shame
Sean McCarthy / Peggy Sweeney

Indiana

It's A Great Day For The Irish
Judy Garland

In Flanders Fields

The Isle Of Innisfree
Richard Farrelly / Dublin City Ramblers

It's A Long Way To Tipperary

The Island - Paul Brady

In My Liverpool Home
The Spinners

Who Is Ireland's Enemy
Declan Hunt

I Am The Comman Man

I Know My Love
The Coors

I'm Asking You Sargent Where's Mine
Billy Connolly / Dubliners

I t It It And It

I Believe In You
Gary Og

Irish Soldier Boy
Paddy Reilly

Ireland United Gaelic And Free
The Irish Brigade

If I Was A Blackbird
Bridie Gallagher

I'll Take You Home Again Kathleen
Josef Loche / Fureys

I Once Loved A Lass
The Clancy Bros. / The Corries

I'm A Rover Seldom Sober
The Dubliners

Old Irish Rebel Songs

The Irish Pub
The High Kings

The Irish Wedding Song

Jim Larkin / Tram Workers
Pete St. John / Paddy Reilly

Johnny Buccah
Dublin City Ramblers

The Jolly Beggarman - Planxty

John O'Dreams
Bill Caddick / Christy Moore

James Connolly / Citizen Army

Joey The Dancer

James Crossan From Bawn

Jimmy McBride

John Keogh Songs

Gypsy Queen
Chris Norman

God Gave Me Wings
Gerry Carney

Go On Home British Soldiers
Wolfe Tones / Eire Og

The Galtee Mountain Boy
Christy Moore / Wolfe Tones

Garda Anna From Buncrana
Conal Gallen

Grace
Jim McCann

Gra Mo Criodh

The Girl I Left Behind Me

The Green Glens Of Antrim
The Antrim Glens Are Calling Included

The Gentleman Soldier
Pogues / Dubliners

George and Pop

Gartan Mother's Lullaby
Luke Kelly

Goodbye Johnny Dear
Margo / Dan The Street Singer

God Save Ireland
Wolfe Tones

God Bless This Lovely Land Of Mine
Rebel Hearts

Galway Bay
Includes Asthoreen Bawn

Galway Girl
Steve Earle / Sharon Shannon

The Whistling Gypsy Rover

Gweedore

Henry Joy
The Flying Column

Heaven Knows

The Hills Of South Armagh
Frances Black

Horses And Plough
P.J. Murrihy

How Are Things In Glocca Morra
Bing Crosby / Julie Andrews

The Handsome Cabin Boy
Ewan McColl / Sweeney's Men

Huron Star
Ron Rackley,

The Hills Above Drumquin
David Hammond

Home In Donegal

The Humors Of Whiskey
Clancy Bros

Hero Nam Vet
Ron Rackley

Hometown On The Foyle
Daniel O'Donnell

Hymn To A Special Man

Her Mantle So Green

The Hills Of Kerry

Hit The Diff
Marty Mone

Hughes Lives On
The Irish Brigade

I Wish I Had Someone To Love Me
The Dubliners / Johnny McEvoy

Ireland Boys Hurrah

Irish Night

In A Country Churchyard
Chris De Burgh

If Your Irish Come Into The Parlor
Ruby Murray

If You Were To Fall
Christie Hennessy

The Inner City Song
The Jolly Beggarmen

If You Still Had The Chance
Marc Fahrbach

Ireland's Call
Phil Coulter

Ireland's Woe

Irish Citizen Army

Isle Of Hope Isle Of Tears
Celtic Woman/ Sean Keane

I Love Old Ireland Still

I.R.E.L.A.N.D.

I Know Where I'm Going
The Iron Horse
Ewan McColl

If We Only Had Old Ireland Over Here
Foster And Allen

Immigrant Eyes
Delores Keane

I'll Remember You In My Prayers

It rains just the same in Missouri
Ray Griff

Ireland's Fight For Freedom
Dublin City Ramblers

I Know Where I'm Going
Maureen Hegerty

I Watch The Sunrise
Daniel O'Donnell

The Irish Aren't All Gone

James Larkin
The South Dublin Union

Johnny I Hardly Knew Ye
Clancy Bros.

Jimmy Spoons

John Reilly - Planxty

The Jug Of Punch
The Clancy Bros Tommy Makem

James Connolly
Wolfe Tones

Jackets Green
Shebeen / Wolfe Tones

Joseph Barker

The second book of irish ballads
by James N. Healy. 1968
Books are written to be read; plays are set down to be acted, and ballads are made to be sung. Unless a ballad is singable it might as well not have been written at all. The ballads in this book find their way in primarily because they have that quality, and only occasionally because of some literary or personal valuation.
There are many reasons, of course, why a ballad becomes popular at a particular time. It may be that the event described is topical, or that a singer has given a specially good performance of it; or it may be pure chance. Sometimes ballads which have been dead for years attain a sudden resurgence of popularity for no reason that can be satisfactorily explained, but in all cases a ballad will not last, or be revived, unless it has a quality that forces itself on the ear of the listener: it must be capable of being sung, simply, by ordinary people.
Very often old tunes, known around the countryside for years, have been utilised to provide the music for ballads and in that way some beautiful and very ancient traditional music has been preserved. In many cases these tunes are twisted around in- geniously to provide the proper mood for the ballad concerned: and it is worth noting how often some tunes have been used, in widely spread parts of the country, for different ballads, at different times.

This surely indicates how well this music must have been known in the instrumental or possibly earlier vocal versions throughout the country in olden times - for indeed some of it can be traced back for many hundreds of years. This does not say, of course, that every tune used in a ballad is of very old origin- few of the ballads we hear today are any older than the latter part of the eighteenth century, when English was replacing Irish as the spoken tongue of the people: and indeed most of the
ballads before the nineteenth century were written by men who could be recognised as poets, or by the sporting fraternity of the better-off classes.
Ballad writing in English first became a popular mode of expression in, and following, the period of the United Irishmen and the Napoleonic wars.
From then on any incident was likely to provide the ballad- maker with a subject for his art.

Ballad makers, and ballad singers, can, one supposes, be accepted as being in line of descent from the Irish bards of older times; and indeed, the bardic tradition and the existence of the Seanacaidhe (native story teller) must have helped to establish the popularity of ballad singing, for, to some extent at least, it has taken the place of both.
The ballad is above all things the voice of the people, for in it they have expressed their feelings, sad and comic, cheerful and forlorn, at street corners, at home and in public houses, about a variety of things - politics, history, the death of a patriot, the loss of a loved one, a sporting event, ambushes, emigration, drinking, escapades and misadventures, curses for real or imagined wrongs, religion, love of a place of beauty; home.

The whole gamut of human feeling has been run in ballads - some of them very beautiful in their simplicity; some contrived and artificial; some fiercely patriotic, others comically twisting grim events.
Feeling is important in a ballad - some of the apparently trivial have survived on this score: so is rhythm and a set of words which flow easily with the voice. It is important that the music selected suits the words and the theme, or is adapted to suit them - happy examples of this are 'Carrigdhoun' (page 32) and Percy French's "The Mountains o' Mourne' both of which use the same basic tune, but in different ways. It is given a sad, haunting quality in the first, omitting some of the notes used in the version for the second song: for which it provides a livelier setting for the wryly-comic words, without losing the nostalgic quality.

The authorship of many ballads cannot be traced. More often than not they were written by people who had no regular claim to be writers, or in circumstances which made a claim to authorship indiscreet at the time.
On the other hand recognised writers have turned their hands to ballads, or at the least to lyrics later accepted as ballads, and some of these are included in the present collection.
Generally speaking, however, it has been thought preferable to include as many as possible which have not appeared in print before, or at least have not done so for some considerable time.
In setting out this book every effort has been made to give due credit to authors and arrangers, when the information could be obtained; and the claim was genuine, but there are, of course many unavoidable gaps. If any acknowledgments have been omitted which should have been made we are more than sorry, and hope to be excused.
When making selections of this type of music it is inevitable, of course, that personal preference enters into the choice, and that personal preference is often coloured by nostalgia.
I am a Corkman, and, as I am proud of it there are no apologies to make for that!

This fact does mean however that I am better acquainted with the balladry of my own neighbourhood and environment that than of any other: and that therefore the collection includes rather more from Cork City, Cork County and Munster, than might be usual. Since many of these have not been printed before, however, I imagine, and hope, that readers from other regions will accept my choice.
In fact one could make up an entire book of ballads from the City and County, which I was almost tempted to do since the present choice meant leaving so many good ones out. Perhaps, however, it might be possible to include them in a future collection.
At any rate I have tried to give you a collection of ballads which you and your friends will want to sing: and if my choice helps you to pass some pleasant evenings around a piano together at least I will have achieved something.
22nd January, 1962
James N.Healy

BALLADS FROM CORK CITY
1. The Banks of my own Lovely Lee..
Mount Massey - The Flower of Macroom.
3. Beautiful City.
4. The Bells of Shandon
The Groves of Blarney.
The Town of Passage
7. The Boys of Fair Hill
BALLADS FROM COUNTY CORK
8. The Holy Ground..
9. Carrigdhoun..
The Mountains of Mourne
11. The Kilcorney Ambush
12. The Rakes of Mallow
13. Kildorrery
14. Drumcollogher.
FROM THE FAMILY CIRCLE
15. The Bug-a-Boo..
The Ballad of the 13th Lock
17. Quare Times...
18. The Sinking of the Muirchu.
19. The Groves of the Pool
20. Ben The Coachman
The Old Man of Killyburn Brae.
22. Me Darlin' Ould Stick.
23. The Goat
24. The Ould Orange Flute
25. Ned Flaherty's Drake
BALLADS OF MUNSTER
26. Kate of Garnavilla (Clare)
27. The Rose of Tralee (Kerry).
28. The Kerry Recruit (do).
29. The Sive Song (do)
30. The Co. Limerick Buck Hunt
31. Paddy Heggarty's Breeches (Tipperary)
32. Slievenamon (do)
33. Rebel on the Run (do).
34. The Peeler and The Goat (do).
SONGS OF LOVE AND COURTIN'
35. Kitty of Coleraine.
36. Dance Light
37. Molly Brallaghan
38. Thank you, Ma'am says Dan
39. The One-eyed Riley
40. Patsy McCann
HISTORICAL AND NATIONAL INTEREST
41. Kelly the Boy from Killanne
42. The Widow McGrath
43. The Glendalough Saint
44. The Finding of Moses
SPORTING
45. The Kilruddery Hunt
46. Sweet Marie.
TRAVEL
47. Are Ye Right there, Michael?.
48. The Irish Rover
SONGS FROM THE IRISH
49. Fáinne Geal an Lae.
50. The Dawning of the Day.
51. Eibhlín a Riún
52. Eileen Aroon.
53. Péarla an Bhrollaigh Bháin
54. The Snowy Breasted Pearl

Songs from the Irish
One of the richest sources of music in our country has been the old songs in the Irish language which very often are so ancient that the authors, or even the period in which they were lived cannot be accurately established. The melody of 'Eibhlin a Riun (Eileen Aroon), for instance, is attributed to Carol O'Daly, a bard who lived in the 14th century; and many others may have originally been composed by the bards of the courts - or may even have been melodies already existing as traditional, and used by them: we do not know. Thomas Moore - whose name should not be decried by any Irish ballad maker, despite the stickiness of some of his work - adopted a similar method, taking the old Gaelic tunes, and preserving them for us by writing editions in English. His method, however, was not to make a near literal translation of the original song, but to write a new one on an entirely different subject which he felt the music fitted. What I have tried to do here is to present a few of these old songs in Irish -a very few of the many hundreds that exist - and give them side by side in the original Irish, and in the English translation which seems best for the voice. Other translations known to the reader may seem to him to be better poetry, but here I am thinking of the translation as something which is to be sung: and therefore have used the words which seem best for a singer in vowel sounds, enunciation, and phrasing. These translations too, seem best suited to the spirit of the original.
I deliberately call these 'songs' rather than "ballads' as the latter is normally written to commemorate a special event or person, while these numbers are on a more general subject, - usually the universal one of love.
A recurring theme in Irish love-songs is the meeting with a beautiful young lady to whom the beholder gives his heart for ever - often in vain. Here the meeting is with a milkmaid in the early morning by the side of Lough Leane (one of the famous akes of Killarney). The original is graceful and wistful as it trips along to a dainty lyric, but it must be confessed that although there are many translations, few of them are really satisfactory for the voice. The one translated here is probably the best. John McCormack made a splendid recording of the song.

IN the small volume to which these pages are prefixed, an attempt has been made to provide, from the lyric wealth of Ireland, a collection that shall fulfil two distinct important functions — the furnishing to all readers a fairly adequate opportunity of judging Irish character, as it is shown in the most self- revealing of all means of expression ; and the providing Irish readers with a book that, in its scope, completeness, and accuracy, may be found worthy to take rank on their shelves beside Gavan Duffy's "Ballad Poetry" and the "Spirit of the Nation." This twofold aim, ambitious though it be, has been kept steadily in view ; every song, ballad, or lyric is by an Irish writer, upon an Irish theme, and clearly Celtic in thought or feeling.

Wherever possible it is one, also, that has actually been popular among the peasantry, who have always been the depositary of the song, music, and simple story, that are now finding securer keeping in printed books. From them, and those in sympathy with them,came the force which again and again revived the hope and courage that strove against unrelenting encroachment, during dreary centuries in which the feet of war went to and fro over the face of the land. Chance fragments of great poems, law-books, and legends found their preservation at the hands of monkish transcribers; but the song, ballad, or simple story was kept in being only by the fireside handing-down of generation to generation. Their ears attuned to the old music ; their memories replete with traditionary lore ; their thought and speech coloured and formed by the " olden golden tongue ; " it is to the peasantry is due the continuity and development of ethnic life and feeling in Ireland. "Mary," of the Nation* did more than express an individual preference when she said,

" I like poetry wild with war, or hot with love, or all glowing with scenery, but would rather write one little song that a child or peasant might sing and feel, than a very miracle-poem of abstraction and profundity." Like Anteus must Humanity renew its vigour by the touch of Mother Earth. From the conscious rule-encumbered art of a complex civilisation must we turn to the truth, freedom, and tenderness of the spontaneous art of a simple nature-moulded life ; from the perennial fountain thus kept fresh all really Irish writers have drawn their inspiration; and until tried by the test thus furnished no song or lyric can be unquestioningly received as truly Irish.

Hitherto there has been too little attention given to the wealth and beauty of the minstrelsy of Ireland. Too many have looked upon the inane rubbish of the music hall as representing Irish song. Others, knowing only Moore, have thought that no poetry could be Irish that was not a glittering array of pearly words, a rippling stream of simile and sentiment. For the first impression T. C. Croker is most responsible. His knowledge of history was more than equalled by misapplication of its meaning, and the " Popular Songs of Ireland " * gave to the world the thought and feeling of a class as that of a nation, and seemed for ever to confirm the slander that Irish songs were " either pure English or mere gibberish." Many learned and ingenious theories accounted for the fact after the fashion of those to whom the wish is father to the thought, but such theories have long since melted into thin air for all but the most ignorant, and none but the careless can have had for years past an excuse for not knowing, in one collection or another, even the scattered beauties of Irish verse.

Farther back in the prehistoric depths than even tradition can guide us with sure feet, the Irish, like all great peoples, were fruitful of poetry. As they enter history, they have a triple order of bards — Law-man, Historian, Poet — with settled functions and privileges, held in high honour and wielding great power. Then, after awhile came intestine quarrels; invasion by Norse Vikings; the settlement of Dublin, Limerick, and other seaports as pirate strongholds by Norsemen ; and these with other things had such effect that when Strongbow

* I should not have troubled at this day to warn any one against Croker had not his book been lately reissued with the imprimatur of a responsible name entered Ireland in 1169 the highest point of the ancient civilization had long been passed, and the system of life and government then in force was falling deeper and deeper into confusion. A few months after Sweyn died in England and Canute took the throne, the battle of Clontarf had resulted in the death of Brian Boroimhe* at the hands of the beaten Danes, and the resumption by Malachi of the power his great rival had usurped. During the reigns of William I. and II. and Henry I. in England incessant fierce contests were raging for possession of the Irish crown. All know how the suicidal folly of inviting foreign intervention gave Ireland to the Normans, as, long before, England had been given to the Saxons.

What remained then of Irish culture sought refuge where it could. The triple order of the Bards was gone down the wind. The historian was now a monkish transcriber ; the law-man was extinct, or nearly so ; and the poet was a wandering minstrel or a harper attached to a chieftain's retinue. Even to the end of the eighteenth century did the harper endure, and the minstrel has done so to this day. Much of this endurance was owing to the rapidity with which settlers became absorbed into " the mere Irish," taking up their manners and customs, and adopting their speech. Despite the draconic laws to that

* Brian of the tributes.

An instructive bit of history is that of the successive holders of Kilcolman. Part of the land conferred upon an invading Norman, it was wrung from his "rebelly" descendants, and granted to that relentless exterminator, though gentle poet, Edmund Spenser. His grandson, in turn, was transported to Connaught as a "rebel," and the estate given to a Cromwellian freebooter. end devised, the few could not be kept from intermingling with the many, and each successive incursion welded into a more or less complete whole all the folk already in the island. Those therein established resented the new-comers' intrusion, and fraternised with the natives in resisting it.

Despite the incessant warfare, despite even the brutal excesses of Elizabethan ruffians, it was not until Cromwell and Ireton had " pacified the land," and the Williamites at the Boyne, Aughrim, and Limerick had, within the space of a generation, repeated the process, that Irish national life was at an end. Until then there had been an Irish audience for the Irish poet, and he wrote in the Irish tongue. Many men of Irish birth, some, like Thomas Duffett, of purely Irish blood, but born " within the pale," had written in English ; but they were those who came to England to seek their fortune, becoming English to all intents and purposes.

The poems of these men have not been included in the present volume, even though they number among them songs like Duffett's "Though Ccelia's my Foe." Nor have the writings been admitted of those who at a later period followed their example. Concanen, Congreve, and O'Keeffe must be counted as English writers. Congreve was so anxious to hide even that he was born in Ireland that he persuaded Jacob to write him down as born at Bardsey in Yorkshire, a lie still copied by the compilers of biography. Goldsmith, in his London garret ; Usher Gahagan and Terence Connor, upon Tyburn Tree; Nahum Tate and Nicolas Brady, versifying the psalms " to be sung in churches " — so far as they have to do with literature, are not Irish but English.

The eighteenth century opened with the Irish people " pacified " into seeming death. The country was in the hands of an enormous garrison, supplemented by the imported proprietors and Shoneen * aristocracy. That part of the island that had lain without the pale was crushed into quietude ; the Anglicised portion had not yet become national ; Swift's " Drapier Letters," and the movement connected with them, interested but a small section of the country ; small outbreaks caused by local grievances occurred here and there, but were speedily suppressed. Many thousands of the "wild geese" fled oversea, and filled the armies and colleges of foreign countries. Those who remained in Ireland did so by favour of the garrison, whose excesses they emulated if they did not surpass ; and during this time it was that the "typical" Irishman of romance was evoked.

The eighteenth century was remarkable everywhere for hard drinking, violence, and coarse excess; in Ireland no less than in other countries. There, however, it was coupled with social conditions that rendered it more striking, and racial traits that made it picturesque ; rattling, reckless extravagance, dare-devil humour, and superb disregard of danger, combine to invite the admiration of the unthinking, even for a people in the depths of degradation.

At the darkest time all was not dark ; a large part of the peasantry was untainted ; from the earlier part of the century date many delicate Celtic poems, like " Kathaleen ny Houlahan," and " The Fair Hills of Ireland," and the first really Irish song written in English, " The Blackbird." This last is interesting in several ways ; it is not only the first Irish song in English, but the only Anglo-Irish Jacobite song extant. It is written to an old Irish air, and is a curious example of the method and manner of one language used in another. " Garryowen " and " The Rakes of Mallow " speak for " gentry " and tradesmen ; " The Sprig of Shillelah " for a good part of the peasantry ; " The Night before Larry was Stretched" for the populace of Dublin and the larger towns, when the century was about three-fourths gone.

The first great blow struck at the British Empire, and at monarchical government — a blow from which they bleed yet — was struck by Irish refugees. " America was lost by Irish emigrants," said, in 1784, Mr Gardiner, afterwards Lord Mountjoy. A number of exiles, driven out by the failure of a revolt occasioned in Ulster by excessive rents, went to America, where they soon had a chance of revenge upon England they were not slow to seize. The " Friendly Sons of St Patrick," the " Fenians " of the time, had Washington for a member — he being sworn in as an " adopted Irishman " for the purpose — organized the already large Irish element in the colonial population, and became a very powerful and wealthy organization. This society supplied a very large part of both the men and money needed for the revolutionary forces. Despite the steady decay of their own tongue — perhaps the faster for it — the purely Irish element permeated the Cromwellian and Williamite settlers with national feeling; They are their children became Irish, as the earlier settlers had done

before them. The great new-birth of nations that was realizing itself in two continents was not without effect in Ireland; and amid the turmoil of debauchery and riot may be traced the slow, sure, unconscious growth that bore fruit in the Volunteer movement, the brief glory of independence, and renewed national life. Most people now spoke English, and that became the vehicle of expression. Of the songs now written, few found memory but some peasant-songs and one or two of Lysaght's and Drennan's ; the others " are upon men's shelves but in no man's mind." " The Wearing of the Green " and the " Shan Van Vocht " are peasant-songs of this time, to which also belong George Ogle's " Molly Asthore" and the anonymous " Cruiskeen Lawn," the first successful attempts, with the exception of " Shule Aroon," at blending the two languages in one effusion. Hitherto, when a Celtic word or phrase had been used in a song, it stood out as an alien intruder ; in these the singer glides from one language to another with little sense of transition, they have become fused in a coherent whole ; a new development, significant, perhaps, of the people that had sprung from the fusion of two races, and was now looking eagerly back to the best in the history of both, and hopefully forward to the future that lay before it. Then came the era of Emancipation and Repeal ; of Moore, Banim, Griffin, Waller, and many others.

Moore, whose songs are so accessible that none are here given, unhappily tinkered most of the old tunes he used into drawing-room shapes, and wedded them to words that were Irish only in their sentiment and in their swiftness and melody. For the rest — intonation, inflection, character — they might have been written by an educated Cockney with an ear for music. With all their lyrical ease, and graceful dance of liquid words, there is in them an affectation, courtly and fastidious, a wealth of sparkling and epigrammatic similitude, that accord ill with the deep simplicity of the music, or the would-be fire of his feeling. Grim old Hazlitt said of him, that he had " converted the wild harp of Erin into a musical snuff-box." Yet it must be said that in this way he was more useful to Ireland than otherwise he could have been. He caught the ear of thousands, where another would have been heard by tens. Lever, in his songs no less than his novels, pandered to the palate that relished the " Donnybrook Irishman," and knew none other.

Lover was in most of his work truly Irish, though he now and then could not resist the temptation of stretching a point in the same direction. Banim, Griffin, and Waller wrote in close contact and sympathy with the peasantry ; and their songs are " Irish right through " — as it is said in Ireland, " you can fed the accent in them." When Moore was in mid-career Mangan began to write. The circumstances of his life have rendered him unknown to large numbers outside his own land ; but there he is held supreme, and the love of him is extending surely wherever English is spoken. He stands far above Moore in the Irish character of his work, as well as in real power of imagination and perception of nature and truth.

But a greater development was in store. On October 15, 1842, the first number of the Nation was published. This great paper was founded by three men, Thomas Osborne Davis, John Blake Dillon, and Charles Gavan Duffy, who, Davis, John Blake Dillon, and Charles Gavan Duffy, who had in view "to create and foster public opinion in Ireland and make it racy of the soil."* From it, and from the
party it made and spoke for, arose a new life for Ireland. It is not too much to say that Irish history took a new meaning, a fresh departure, with the starting of the Nation ; that the fresh departure found expression in the rebirth of a national literature, of which the songs and ballads of its poets and their successors were not the least important part. How that new meaning has year after year grown deeper, and that new departure more pronounced, needs here no telling. The upward impulse has never slackened ; to-day the Irish race, world-scattered though it be, is solidary and united ; with an ever-growing literature distinctively its own, and yet part of the literature of the English-speaking peoples.

To those who have erected fanciful theories of Irish character, and come to this little book for confirmation, disappointment must result. There is revealed no glaring difference between the Irish and English peoples that need prevent them from meeting and mingling as close friends, from uniting as one folk. In the lyric of love, war, or fancy, the Celtic singer gives utterance to thought and feeling that appeal to all men. The difference is one of manner rather than of matter; swifter perception, and a lighter touch. While the palm of supremacy in the art of song-making must rest with the Scotch — Elizabethan English being near by — the Irish are not far behind. With much of the emotional melody of the Scottish singers, they
are free from the hindrance of a half-known dialect; lacking somewhat of the Elizabethan simplicity, they possess most part of their musical modulation. Ireland has in a thousand ways "heaped coals of fire" upon the head of her conquerors ; she has given soldiers and statesmen to the building of the Empire; poets, artists, and musicians to its adornment ; writers and historians to its record and description. In none of these things has she been more successful, or conferred a greater boon, than in singing the hope and fear, the passion and the aspiration of humble common folk — in giving us so many moving songs "that a child or peasant might sing and feel."

In the revision as in the original preparation of this book I have received counsel and encouragement from many sources. Two men I cannot refrain from naming with special gratitude — the Rev. Matthew Russell, of the Irish Monthly, and Sir Charles Gavan Duffy — who laid open for my use all the treasures of their learning. From Irish folk everywhere have come warm-hearted letters of gratitude for "the service done to the dear old land," oftentimes adding valuable information or suggestions. To every one of these I have given anxious thought, and have embodied all I could. For the design upon the cover I am indebted to Miss May Morris, and for several copyright poems to the kindness of their authors. To them, and to all others, I tender hearty thanks for the ungrudging aid given in the realization of a long-cherished project.

H. HALLIDAY SPARLING. London, March 17, 1888.