The Emigrant's Farewell (about the Lough Neagh) By poet John Canavan Fare ye well my native green clad hills Fare ye well my shamrock plain Ye verdant banks of sweet Lough Neagh And ye silvery winding streams Though far from my home in green Tyrone My Flora first I strayed I adore you Killcolpy Where I spent my boyhood days. Shall I ever see the grand old plains Where in boyhood days I roved Or wander through those grand old woods With the girl I dearly loved Shall I ever more by Lough Neagh's shore E're pass the summer day. Or hear again the larks sweet strain Or hear the blackbirds pysomes play. Shall I ever rove by Belmonts grove Or Cranan's lofty hills Or hear again the fairy tale Of the rath behind the mill Will the nightingale that charms the vale By me be heard no more As I watched at eve the wild drake leave For the bogs of sweet Dromore. Shall my oars e're rest on your wild wave crest Or again see the salmon play While sailing o'er from Tyrone's green shore Bound for Antrim Bay Or an autumn gale e're fill my sail With a dim declining moon See me tempest toss on the shores of Doss Or the raging Bay of Toome. Shall I ne'er behold Shane's Castle bold Or gaze on Mazzereene Shall my cot e're land on the banks of Bann Coney Island or Roskeen. Shall I ever stray by the Washingbay The weary trout to coy Or set my line on an evening fine Round the shores of green Mountjoy. All for you Ardboe my tears do flow When I think and call to mind My parents dear and friends sincere And comrades true and kind But I hope to graze on your flowery braes E're seven long years come round And hands to clasp in friendships grasp Of those I left behind. My friends out here in America Have all that there hearts desire My pockets filled with dollar bills I am dressed in the grand attire I would give it all for one country ball At home by the old hearth stone In a cabin near Lough Neagh so dear In my own dear native home. Now hence, also long years have passed And I'll toast that beautiful isle, That soon and long o'er that land of song A star of peace may smile May plenty bloom from the Bann to Toome And the shamrock verdant grow Green o'er my grave by Lough Neagh's wave Near the Old Cross of Ardboe. ------------------------------------------------------- THE LILY OF LOUGH NEAGH by Moses Teggart, Poet of the Boglands Springfield Mass. Oct. 1898 Do I remember Daisy Tennyson? Well! To be sure, I do! Her hair was black as the clouds of night, Her eyes as heaven blue. Her sweet face was the envy Of all the Milltown girls, And when she laughed - then, you could see Her mouth was full of pearls. A dear light-hearted Daisy In kirtle green and gray; The colleen they were wont to call The Lily of Lough Neagh. Her dad in Californy Had dug so hard for gold, When he came home he had as much As Daisy's lap would hold. Rich enough for a princess, She might have wed an Earl, But Daisy loved a fish-lad, And he adored the girl. On Lough neagh's banks at sunset Oft would these lovers stray - Soft kisses were the dews that fed The Lily of Lough Neagh. No useless shoes or stockings Would lovely Daisy wear, Her feet were white as buttermilk, Her shapely ankles bare. Her namesakes in the dewy grass And on the rampers brown, Outdone by Daisy's soft white feet, Their rosy heads hung down. But like herself in snowy white - On Daisy's weddin' day They bloomed and blushed wherever went The Lily of Lough Neagh. Do I remember Daisy Tennyson? Indeed, indeed I do! Her hair was black as the clouds of night, Her eyes as heaven blue. A daughter of Hibernia, Sweet lass! I see her still, - No purtier colleen ever walked The wilds of Columbkill. If in them parts you ever meet A grand old man and gray, Just ask him if he ever knew The Lily of Lough Neagh ************************************************** BRACKAGH HILL (a small town in Co. Tyrone near the shores of Lough Neagh) One night as I lay slumbering in my silent bed alone Some rakish thoughts came in my head which caused me for to roam To leave behind me my native town and the wee girl I adore To take a trip as I saw fit strange countries to explore The night before I went away I was walking over Brackagh Hill I met my love upon the road and her eyes with tears did fill O Johnny dear she said stay here and do not go away For there'll be none for comfort me when you are o'er the sea Well I took her by the lily white hand and I held her long and fast My darling girl I must away for our ship lies in Belfast But if you'll prove constant I'll prove true for you know I am well inclined So we kissed shook hands and parted and I left my girl behind And it's when we landed in Greenock sure the people all gathered round They said I was a rakish lad come to cut their harvest down They told me to return home and to never more be seen So that very night I took my flight back to Erin's lovely green And when Mary heard her Johnny was home her heart it did leap with joy So three herself all in his arms saying yo're my darling boy O Johnny dear I'm glad you're here for you I have thought long So let them all say as they will our wedding will go on And Brackagh Hill is a lovely place with fine wee girls therein You'd swear they were the nightingale when they sit down and sing Where the Salmon Trout do sport about round Lough Neagh's verdant shore So let them all say as they will you are mine forever Sung by Patrick Street on "Irish Times" ************************************** FLOWER OF SWEET STRABANE If I were King of Ireland's Isle And had all things at my will I'd roam for recreation And I'd seek for comfort still T he comfort I would ask for So that you may understand Is to win the heart of Martha The Flower of Sweet Strabane Her cheeks they are a ruby red Her hair a lovely brown And o'er her milk white shoulders It carelessly hangs down She is the fairest creature And the pride of all her clan And my heart is captivated By the flower of Sweet Strabane Well I've been in the Phoenix Park And in Killarney fair The lovely glens of Antrim And the winding banks of Clare In all my earthly travels I never yet met one That could compare, I do declare With the Flower of Sweet Strabane But since I cannot gain her love No joy there is for me And I must seek forgetfulness In lands across the sea Unless she cares to follow me I swear by my right hand McKenna's face you'll ne'er more see My Flower of Sweet Strabane So it's farewell to sweet Derry Quay New Mills and Waterside I'll sail out o'er the ocean Whatever may betide I'll sail away from Derry Quay Out by the Isle of Man A nd I'll bid farewell to Martha The Flower of Sweet Strabane ************************************** PRETTY LITTLE GIRL FROM OMAGH Way up in the north of Tyrone There's a pretty little girl I called my own The sweetest rose Ireland ever known And it's true as the moon and stars above I falling head over heels in love with the pretty little girl from Omagh In the county of Tyrone There's cut little girls in old Strabane There's just as pretty in Monaghan Same as any other place I've known But I guess that I've be out of bounds For there between those northern town Is the pretty little girl from Omagh In the county of Tyrone She wears my ring and tells her friend She's gonna marry me And best of all, she tells them all She happy as can be, oh, lucky me, well I don't know what she done to me There's nothing else my eyes can see But the pretty little girl from Omagh In the county of Tyrone Way down in the south of old Tyrone I recall that yellow dress she wore As she stood there on the shore there all alone And I know it was my lucky day She came there on holiday The pretty little girl from Omagh In the county from Tyrone There's cut little girls in old Strabane There's just as pretty in Monaghan Same as any other place I've known But I guess that I've be out of bounds For there between those northern town Is the pretty little girl from Omagh In the county of Tyrone She wears my ring and tells her friend She's gonna marry me And best of all, she tells them all She happy as can be, oh, lucky me, well I don't know what she done to me There's nothing else my eyes can see But the pretty little girl from Omagh In the county of Tyrone By Daniel O'DONNELL *****************************************