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~♥footie~angel♥~
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15 Mar 2009 10:05 |
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Come all ye maidens young and fair, All you who are blooming in your prime, Always beware to keep your garden fair, Let no man steal away your thyme.
Thyme it is a precious thing, Thyme brings all things to your mind, Thyme with all its labors, along with all its joys, And thyme brings all things to an end.
Once I had a bunch of thyme, I thought it never would decay, Until a saucy sailor chanced upon my way, He stole away my bonny bunch of thyme.
This sailor, he gave to me a rose, I thought it never would decay, He gave it to me to keep me well-minded, Of the night he stole my bonny bunch of thyme.
Come all ye maidens young and fair, All you who are blooming in your prime, Always beware to keep your garden fair, Let no man steal away your thyme.
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~♥footie~angel♥~
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15 Mar 2009 10:04 |
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Hank Locklin wonderful choice Bob here you go:
I was dreaming of old Ireland and Killarneys lakes and dells I was dreaming of the shamrock and the dear old Shandon Bells When my memories suggested in a vision bright and clear All the strange things that would happen if we had old Ireland here
If the Blarney stone stood out on Sidney Harbor And Dublin Town to Melbourne came to stay If the Shannon River joined the Brisbane Waters And Killarneys lakes flowed into Botany Bay
If the Shandon Bells rang out in old Fremantle And County Cork in Adelaide did appear Erin's sons would never roam all the boys would stay at home If we only had old Ireland over here [ piano ] There were lots of lovely fairies dancin' on the village green There are lots of lovely coleens the finest ever seen Where the boys were all called Paddy and the girls called Molly Dear Sure we'd wrap the green flag round them if we had old Ireland here
If the Shandon Bells rang out in old Fremantle... If we only had old Ireland over here
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BOBBIE
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15 Mar 2009 09:53 |
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haven't you got that one for the Aussies if we only had old Ireland over here
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~♥footie~angel♥~
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15 Mar 2009 09:51 |
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for Mark his fav written by his most famous Irish ancester:
It's a Long Way to Tipperary
Up to mighty London came An Irish lad one day, All the streets were paved with gold, So everyone was gay! Singing songs of Piccadilly, Strand, and Leicester Square, 'Til Paddy got excited and He shouted to them there:
It's a long way to Tipperary, It's a long way to go. It's a long way to Tipperary To the sweetest girl I know! Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square! It's a long long way to Tipperary, But my heart's right there.
Paddy wrote a letter To his Irish Molly O', Saying, "Should you not receive it, Write and let me know! If I make mistakes in "spelling", Molly dear", said he, "Remember it's the pen, that's bad, Don't lay the blame on me".
It's a long way to Tipperary, It's a long way to go. It's a long way to Tipperary To the sweetest girl I know! Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square, It's a long long way to Tipperary, But my heart's right there.
Molly wrote a neat reply To Irish Paddy O', Saying, "Mike Maloney wants To marry me, and so Leave the Strand and Piccadilly, Or you'll be to blame, For love has fairly drove me silly, Hoping you're the same!"
It's a long way to Tipperary, It's a long way to go. It's a long way to Tipperary To the sweetest girl I know! Goodbye Piccadilly, Farewell Leicester Square, It's a long long way to Tipperary, But my heart's right there.
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~♥footie~angel♥~
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15 Mar 2009 09:49 |
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love it Shims heres one for me Nan:
I'll take you home again, Kathleen Across the ocean wild and wide To where your heart has ever been Since you were first my bonnie bride. The roses all have left your cheek. I've watched them fade away and die Your voice is sad when e'er you speak And tears bedim your loving eyes.
Chorus: Oh! I will take you back, Kathleen To where your heart will feel no pain And when the fields are fresh and green I'll take you to your home again!
I know you love me, Kathleen, dear Your heart was ever fond and true. I always feel when you are near That life holds nothing, dear, but you. The smiles that once you gave to me I scarcely ever see them now Though many, many times I see A dark'ning shadow on your brow.
Chorus
To that dear home beyond the sea My Kathleen shall again return. And when thy old friends welcome thee Thy loving heart will cease to yearn. Where laughs the little silver stream Beside your mother's humble cot And brightest rays of sunshine gleam There all your grief will be forgot.
Chorus
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ShimmsRedRoseAndMistletoe
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15 Mar 2009 09:43 |
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There's a tear in your eye, And I'm wondering why, For it never should be there at all. With such pow'r in your smile, Sure a stone you'd beguile, So there's never a teardrop should fall. When your sweet lilting laughter's Like some fairy song, And your eyes twinkle bright as can be; You should laugh all the while And all other times smile, And now, smile a smile for me.
When Irish eyes are smiling, Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring. In the lilt of Irish laughter You can hear the angels sing. When Irish hearts are happy, All the world seems bright and gay. And when Irish eyes are smiling, Sure, they steal your heart away.
For your smile is a part Of the love in your heart, And it makes even sunshine more bright. Like the linnet's sweet song, Crooning all the day long, Comes your laughter and light. For the springtime of life Is the sweetest of all There is ne'er a real care or regret; And while springtime is ours Throughout all of youth's hours, Let us smile each chance we get.
When Irish eyes are smiling, Sure, 'tis like the morn in Spring. In the lilt of Irish laughter You can hear the angels sing. When Irish hearts are happy, All the world seems bright and gay. And when Irish eyes are smiling, Sure, they steal your heart away.
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~♥footie~angel♥~
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15 Mar 2009 09:32 |
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I love this so gentle tis for my mate Asbo who canno post rite now ~ hope you like it Asbo;
You may travel far far from your own native land Far away o'er the mountains, far away o'er the foam But of all the fine places that I've ever been Sure there's none can compare with the cliffs of Doneen
Take a view o'er the mountains, fine sights you'll see there You'll see the high rocky mountains o'er the west coast of Clare Oh the town of Kilkee and Kilrush can be seen From the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Doneen
It's a nice place to be on a fine summer's day Watching all the wild flowers that ne'er do decay Oh the hares and lofty pheasants are plain to be seen Making homes for their young round the cliffs of Doneen
Fare thee well to Doneen, fare thee well for a while And to all the kind people I'm leaving behind To the streams and the meadows where late I have been And the high rocky slopes round the cliffs of Doneen
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~♥footie~angel♥~
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15 Mar 2009 09:22 |
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and one for me Mum:
Well, in a neat little town they call Belfast, apprentice to trade I was bound Many an hours sweet happiness, have I spent in that neat little town A sad misfortune came over me, which caused me to stray from the land Far away from my friends and relations, betrayed by the black velvet band
Her eyes they shone like diamonds I thought her the queen of the land And her hair it hung over her shoulder Tied up with a black velvet band
I took a stroll down Broadway, meaning not long for to stay When who should I meet but this pretty fair maid comes a tripping along the highway She was both fair and handsome, her neck it was just like a swans And her hair it hung over her shoulder, tied up with a black velvet band
Her eyes they shone like diamonds I thought her the queen of the land And her hair it hung over her shoulder Tied up with a black velvet band
I took a stroll with this pretty fair maid, and a gentleman passing us by Well I knew she meant the doing of him, by the look in her roguish black eye A goldwatch she took from his pocket and placed it right in to my hand And the very first thing that I said was bad luck to the black velvet band
Her eyes they shone like diamonds I thought her the queen of the land And her hair it hung over her shoulder Tied up with a black velvet band
Before the judge and the jury, next morning I had to appear The judge he says to me: "Young man, your case it is proven clear We'll give you seven years penal servitude, to be spent faraway from the land Far away from your friends and companions, betrayed by the black velvet band"
Her eyes they shone like diamonds I thought her the queen of the land And her hair it hung over her shoulder Tied up with a black velvet band
So come all you jolly young fellows a warning take by me When you are out on the town me lads, beware of them pretty colleens For they feed you with strong drink, "Oh yeah", 'til you are unable to stand And the very next thing that you'll know is you've landed in Van Diemens Land
Her eyes they shone like diamonds I thought her the queen of the land And her hair it hung over her shoulder Tied up with a black velvet band
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~♥footie~angel♥~
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15 Mar 2009 09:20 |
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heres for me Dad:
Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight With people here working by day and by night They don't sow potatoes, nor barley nor wheat But there' gangs of them digging for gold in the streets At least when I asked them that's what I was told So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold But for all that I found there I might as well be Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea. I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed 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 no top to their dresses at all. Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in trath Say if they were bound for a ball or a bath Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary Macree, Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
I've seen England's king from the top of a bus And I've never known him, but 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 than 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.
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 a 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 wishful like me To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mind With beautiful shapes nature never designed And lovely complexions all roses and cream But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same That if at those roses you venture to sip The colours might all come away on your lip So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for me Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.
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~♥footie~angel♥~
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15 Mar 2009 09:18 |
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is being celebrated by some today all over the globe ~ the biggest parade held in the country will take place at 12pm in Birmingham ~ will be the 3rd biggest in the world!
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