The Mountains of Mourne
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| The lyrics of this beautiful Ballad were written by Percy French (1854-1920). They were sent to Houston Collison on the back of a post-card and he set it to the ancient Irish aire "CARRIGDHOUN". | |
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| Oh | Mary, this | London's a | wonderful | sight, with | people here |
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| working by | day and by | night. They | don't sow po | tatoes, nor | barley,
nor |
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| wheat, but there's | gangs of them | digging for | gold in the | streets. At |
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|least when I | axed (asked) them, that's | what I was | told, so I | just took
a |
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| hand at this | diggin' for | gold, but for | all that I | found there, I |
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| might as well | be, where the | Mountains of | Mourne sweep | down to the |
sea. |
2. I believe that when writin' a wish
you express,
As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed,
Well if you believe me, when asked to a Ball,
Faith, they don't wear a top to their dresses at all.
Oh I've seen them myself
and you could not in truth,
Say if they were bound for a Ball or a bath.
Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary macree,
Where the Mountains fo Mourne sweep down to the sea.
3. I've seen England's King from the
top of a bus,
I've never known him, tho' he means to know us.
And tho' by the Saxon we once were oppressed,
Still, I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest.
And now that he's
visited Erin's green shore,
We'll be much better friends that we've been heretofore,
When we've got all we want we're as quiet as can be,
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
4. You remember young Peter
O'Loughlin of course,
Well now, he is here at the head of the Force.
I met him today, I was crossing the Strand.
And he stopped the whole street with one wave of his hand.
And there we stood
talkin' of days that are gone,
While the whole population of London looked on.
But for all these great powers he's wishfull like me,
To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
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