Traditional Irish Folk Songs

Lord of the Dance
song Lyrics, (traditional with many Bard's input)

She danced on the water, and the wind was Her horn The Lady laughed, and everything was born And when She lit the sun and its' light gave Him birth The Lord of the Dance first appeared on the Earth

(Chorus): Dance, dance, wherever you may be I am the Lord of the Dance, you see! I live in you, and you live in me and I lead you all in the Dance, said He!

I danced in the morning when the World was begun I danced in the Moon and the Stars and the Sun I was called from the Darkness by the Song of the Earth I joined in the Song, and She gave Me the Birth!

I dance in the Circle when the flames leap up high I dance in the Fire, and I never, ever, die I dance in the waves of the bright summer sea For I am the Lord of the wave's mystery I sleep in the kernel, and I dance in the rain I dance in the wind, and through the waving grain And when you cut me down, I care nothing for the pain; In the Spring I'm the Lord of the Dance once again!

I dance at the Sabbat when you dance out the Spell I dance and sing that everyone be well And when the dancing's over do not think that I am gone To live is to Dance! So I dance on, and on! I see the Maidens laughing as they dance in the Sun And I count the fruits of the Harvest, one by one I know the Storm is coming, but the Grain is all stored So I sing of the Dance of the Lady, and Her Lord:

The Horn of the Lady cast its' sound 'cross the Plain The birds took the notes, and gave them back again Till the sound of Her music was a Song in the sky And to that Song there is only one reply: The moon in her phases, and the tides of the sea The movement of the Earth, and the Seasons that will be Are the rhythm for the dancing, and a promise through the years That the Dance goes on through all our joy, and tears We dance ever slower as the leaves fall and spin And the sound of the Horn is the wailing of the wind The Earth is wrapped in stillness, and we move in a trance, But we hold on fast to our faith in the Dance!

The sun is in the southland and the days grow chill And the sound of the horn is fading on the hill 'Tis the horn of the Hunter, as he rides across the plain And the Lady sleeps 'til the Spring comes again The Sun is in the Southland and the days lengthen fast And soon we will sing for the Winter that is past Now we light the candles and rejoice as they burn And we dance the Dance of the Sun's return!

They danced in the darkness and they danced in the night they danced on the Earth, and everything was light they danced out the Darkness and they danced in the Dawn and the Day of that Dancing is still going on!

I gaze on the Heavens and I gaze on the Earth And I feel the pain of dying, and re-birth And I lift my head in gladness, and in praise For the Dance of the Lord, and His Lady gay I dance in the stars as they whirl throughout space And I dance in the pulse of the veins in your face No dance is too great, no dance is too small, You can look anywhere, for I dance in them all!




The Wonderful love of a beautiful maid and the love of a staunch true man, and the love of a baby, unafraid. Have existed since life began; But the greatest love, the love of love, Even greater than that of a mother, Is the tender passionate, infinate love of one drunken sot for another.

Irish Lullaby

Over in Killarney, many years ago, Me Mother sang a song to me in tones so sweet and low. Just a simple little ditty, in her good old Irish way. And I'd give the world if she could sing that song to me this day.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Hush now don't you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, Too-ra-loo-ra-li.
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, That's an Irish lullaby.



The Mermaid

It was Friday morn when we set sail And we were not far from the land When our captain spied a Mermaid so fair With a comb and a glass in her hand
( Chorus ) And the ocean waves may roll And the stormy winds may blow
Shout : May Blow!
And we poor sailors come skipping to the top While the land lubbers lie down below below below While the land lubbers lie down below
Then up spoke the Captain of our gallant ship And a fine spoken man was he Saying" I have a wife in Brooklyn by the sea And tonight a widow she will be " ( Chorus )
Then up spoke the cabin boy of our gallant ship And a brave young lad was he " Oh I have a sweetheart in Salem by the sea And tonight she'll be weepin' for me " ( Chorus )
Then up spoke the cook of our gallant ship And a crazy old butcher was he " I care much more for my pots and my pans than I do for the bottom of the sea " ( Chorus )
Then three times round spun our gallant ship And three times round spun she Three times round spun our gallant ship And she sank to the bottom of the sea ( Chorus )



Wearing o the green

I met with Napper Tandy. And he took me by the hand. Saying: How is poor old Ireland? And what way does she stand? She’s the most distressful country, That ever yet was seen. They are hanging men and women, For the wearing of the green. For the wearing of the green, My native land, I cannot stand, For the wearing of the green. My father loved you tenderly, He lies within your breast. While I, that would have died for you, Must never so be blessed. For laws, their cruel laws, have said, That seas should roll between Old Ireland and her faithful sons, Who love to wear the green. |: For the wearing of the green, My native land, I cannot stand, For the wearing of the green. 3. I care not for the Thistle, And I care not for the Rose; When bleak winds round us whistle, Neither down nor crimson shows. But like hope to him that’s friendless, When no joy around is seen. O’er our grave with love that’s endless, Blooms our own immortal green. For the wearing of the green, My native land, I cannot stand, For the wearing of the green.


AN IRISH LULLABY

I've found my bonny babe a nest On Slumber Tree,
I'll rock you there to rosy rest, Asthore Machree!
Oh, lulla lo! sing all the leaves On Slumber Tree,
Till everything that hurts or grieves Afar must flee.
I've put my pretty child to float Away from me,
Within the new moon's silver boat On Slumber Sea.
And when your starry sail is o'er From Slumber Sea,
My precious one, you'll step to shore On Mother's knee.

Alfred Perceval Graves [1846-1931]

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