Join me in a St. Paddy's Day chorus!

Hey, Cav. Sent this one to an Irish friend:

Now Jim O'Shea was cast away
Upon an Indian Isle.
The natives there they liked his hair,
They liked his Irish smile,
So made him chief Panjandrum,
The Nabob of them all.
They called him Jij-ji-boo Jhai,
And rigged him out so gay,
So he wrote to Dublin Bay,
To his sweetheart, just to say:

CHORUS:
Sure, I've got rings on my fingers, bells on my toes,
Elephants to ride upon, my little Irish Rose;
So come to your Nabob, and next Patrick's Day,
Be Mistress Mumbo Jumbo Jij-ji-boo J. O'Shea.
Across the sea went Rose Magee
To see her Nabob grand.
He sat within his palanquin,
And when she kissed his hand,
He led her to his harem,
Where he had wives galore.
She started shedding a tear;
Said he, "Now have no fear,
I'm keeping these wives here
Just for ornament, my dear."

In emerald green he robed his queen,
To share with him his throne.
'Mid eastern charms and waving palms
They'd shamrocks, Irish grown,
Sent all the way from Dublin
To Nabob J. O'Shea
But in his palace so fine
Should Rose for Ireland pine,
With smiles her face will shine
When he murmurs, "Sweetheart mine"

Copyright 1909 Francis, Day and Hunter Ltd.
From The British Music Hall, Davison
RG

The Minstrel Boy

The minstrel boy to the war is gone,
In the ranks of death you'll find him;
His father's sword he has girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him;
"Land of Song!" said the warrior bard,
"Though all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!"

The minstrel fell! But the foeman's chain
Could not bring his proud soul under;
The harp he loved ne'er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said "No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and brav'ry!
Your songs were made for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery!

St. Paddy's always puts me in a rebel mood Letty, so here's another:

Wearing Of The Green, The
Unknown

"O Paddy dear, and did ye hear the news that's goin' round?
The shamrock is by law forbid to grow on Irish ground!
No more Saint Patrick's Day we'll keep, his color can't be seen
For there's a cruel law ag'in the Wearin' o' the Green."
I met with Napper Tandy, and he took me by the hand,
And he said, "How's poor ould Ireland, and how does she stand?"
"She's the most distressful country that ever yet was seen,
For they're hanging men and women there for the Wearin' o' the Green."

"So if the color we must wear be England's cruel red
Let it remind us of the blood that Irishmen have shed;
And pull the shamrock from your hat, and throw it on the sod
But never fear, 'twill take root there, though underfoot 'tis trod.
When laws can stop the blades of grass from growin' as they grow
And when the leaves in summer-time their color dare not show,
Then I will change the color too I wear in my caubeen;
But till that day, please God, I'll stick to the Wearin' o' the Green."

Ahh George, one of my faves, and one of the few non-love songs written by Thomas Moore.

Irish Rovers-The Scottsman
Well a Scottsman clad in kilt left a bar one evening fair
And one could tell by how he walked the he'd drunk more than his share
He fumbled 'round until he could no long keep his feet
And he stumbled off in to the grass to sleep beside the street

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
He stumbled off in to the grass to sleep beside the street

About the thime two young and lovely girls just happened by
One says to the other, with a twinkle in her eye
"See yon sleeping Scottsman, so strong a handsome built
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt"

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
I wonder if it's true what they don't wear beneath the kilt

They krept up on the sleeping Scottsman quite as could be
They lifted up his kilt about an inch so they could see
And there, behold, for them to view beneath his Scottish skirt
Was nothing more than God had graced him with upon his birth

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
Was nothing more htna God had graced him with upon his birth

They marveled for a moment, then one said "We must be gone.
Let's leave a present for our friend before we move along"
As a gift they left a blue silk ribbon tied in to a bow
Around the bonnie star the Scotts kilt did lift and show

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
Around the bonnie star the scotts kilt did lift and show

Now the Scottsman woke to natures call and stumbled for the trees
Behind the bush he lifts his kilt, and gawks at what he sees
And in a startled voice he says, to what's before his eyes,
"Lad, I don't know where you;ve been, but I see you've won first prize"

Ring-ding didle lidle la deo
Ring dye didley eye oh
Lad, I don't know where you've been, but I see you've won first prize

In honor of my late father, his all-time favorite.
(Dad would have fit in quite nicely at the wake!)

Steve O'Donnell's Wake
(Traditional)

Steve O'Donnell was a gentleman, so everybody said,
He was loved by all his friends both rich and poor,
And everyone felt sorry when they heard that Steve was dead,
And they saw the black crepe paper 'round the door.

The barber came to shave the Galway slugger's face and throat,
And cut his hair an a la pompadour,
A red necktie and button-hole bouquet were in his coat,
And a bunch of shamrocks in his hands he wore.

Chorus:
And there were fighters, and blighters, and Irish dynamiters,
There was beer, gin, whiskey, wine and cake;
There were men of high position, there were Irish politicians
And they all got drunk at Steve O'Donnell's Wake.

Now undertaker Feeney had a job to lay him out,
In a casket of the very finest make,
He dressed the corpse in broadcloths, sayin,' "Boys, there'll be no doubt,
They'll all be sad at Steve O'Donnell's wake."

There were fifty candles at his head and twenty at his feet,
And plenty flowers sent for friendship's sake.
"Oh, Stevie boy, why didya die?" the weeping widow cried,
And they all felt sad at Steve O'Donnell's wake.

[Chorus]

Now Mick McGovern said of Steve, "He was an awful bum,"
Of course he only meant it as a joke;
But Paddy Mack got off his back and made McGovern run,
When he hit him in the eye an awful poke.

All joined in the fighting then, 'cause everyone was mad,
And blood enough was shed to flood a lake;
They knocked the corpse down to the floor and busted all the lights,
There was holy war at Steve O'Donnell's wake.

[Chorus]

Now the cops came in to stop the brawl and make them understand,
The corpse was picked up by his brother Dan;
When someone stole the necktie from around O'Donnell's throat,
Mick McGovern said O'Reilly was the man.

O'Reilly and his friends got mad and swore they'd have his life,
McGovern swore they'd made a great mistake;
They fought and fought and drank all night 'til the cops came back again,
And arrested all at Steve O'Donnell's wake.

[Chorus]

And for George and Cav, another that I sent to an Irishman so long ago.

Believe Me, If All Those Endearing Young Charms
Thomas Moore

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
Which I gaze on so fondly today,
Were to change by tomorrow, and fleet in my arms,
Like fairy-gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
Let thy loveliness fade as it will,
And around the dear ruin each wish of my heart
Would entwine itself verdantly still.

It is not while beauty and youth are thine own,
And thy cheeks unprofaned by a tear
That the fervor and faith of a soul can be known,
To which time will but make thee more dear;
No, the heart that has truly loved never forgets,
But as truly loves on to the close,
As the sunflower turns on her god, when he sets,
The same look which she turned when he rose.

Does anyone know the background on this verse? It is so tender.

I don't know the background Letty, but in my youth I attempted to sing it, and The Minstrel Boy, but man, Moore's cadences can be tough on the vocal chords.

Cav, "Believe me if all those Endearing Young Charms" was a poem set to music. Moore wrote it to his wife who contracted small pox. Although she survived, her face was horribly scarred, and she locked herself in her bedroom. He wrote the poem to her and slipped it under her door.

What a guy!

That is a very 'endearing' story, Letty. I wonder if there was an earlier, unknown Moore piece written when she said "I look fat in this!" I love his stuff, it's just tough to sing.

Another classic I used to sing:

Four Green Fields
Tommy Makem

"What did I have?", said the fine old woman
"What did I have?", this proud old woman did say
"I had four green fields, each one was a jewel
But strangers came and tried to take them from me
I had fine, strong sons, they fought to save my jewels
They fought and died and that was my grief", said she

"Long time ago", said the fine old woman
"Long time ago", this proud old woman did say
"There was war and death, plundering and pillage
My children starved by mountain, valley and sea
And their wailing cries, they shook the very heavens
My four green fields ran red with their blood", said she

"What have I now?", said the fine old woman
"What have I now?", this proud old woman did say
"I have four green fields, one of them's in bondage
In strangers hands that tried to take it from me
But my sons have sons, as brave as were their fathers
My four green fields will bloom once again", said she.

Well, don't pinch me, cause I'm wearing green (sorta).

I found the chord changes to the music..I'll return and see if I can relocate them.

Two renditions of "The Minstrel Boy" I've enjoyed:

Sean Connery's character at the end of The_Man_Who_Would_Be_King and Colm Meany as "Chief O'Brien" with a captain he had previously served under ("Star Trek: the Next Generation").