Na Píobairí Uilleann

Chairman, NPU

An Píobaire

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7 1 23 20110224 “Yes, that is Irish – true Irish,” said Mr. Jenk- ins; “how exquisitely the violin accompani- ment harmonizes with the pipes. Pray, whose arrangement is that?” “’Twas I, sir,” replied Gandsey, “just fixed it out for boy to learn.” “Have you any words to this melody?” in- quired Mr. Lynch. “None, sir,” said Gandsey, “though they’re much wanting to it; but I have some words of my own making too, which I’ll sing, with the greatest pleasure in life, to the air of ‘Bob and Joan.’ Come, boy, scrape away.” To Killarney we will go And see fair nature’s beauties, The mountains tipp’d with snow, And covered with arbutus. Oh, then, to hear at night, At Gorham’s, how entrancing, Old Gandsey play his pipes, Which sets the maids a dancing! Tow, row, row, row, row, Tow, row, row, row, reddy, Tow, row, row, row, row, Can’t you just walk steady? Gandsey, to promote Harmonious tunes so jolly, Strikes up a favourite note To banish melancholy. Hi lilts it up in style, Upon his pipes so merry, The gravest faces smile To hear his Paddy Carey. Tow, row, row, row, row, etc. He plays Kitty from Athlone, And Maureen dee na Glenna, And Noreen on the road, With the flashy rakes of Mallow; Aughrim overthrown, The fall of Condon’s castle, Cornelius Lord Mayo, Who was the boy to wrestle. Tow, row, row, row, row, etc. He’ll give Jackson’s Morning Brush And Billy Joy the joker, With the famous Kouth Polthogue, Described by Crofton Croker; The ball of Ballinafad, The song of Bannah Lannah, Plounkum Moll in the Wadd, And Shaune O’Dwyr na Glenna. Tow, row, row, row, row, etc. On the lakes when we do go, We’ll have a boat and whiskey, With men and oars to row, Their hearts both light and frisky; A dinner we’ll provide, We shall have full and plenty, Two hampers stuff’d and tied, And wine enough for twenty. Tow, row, row, row, row, etc. Through Turk Lake we will pass Straight up to Dinis Island, There we’ll dine upon the grass, And drink like Captain Ryland. “Home, sweet home,” I’ll play, Then our boat will sail across, sir, And take the shortest way To bring us back to Ross, sir. Tow, row, row, row, row, etc. Now our excursion o’er, At Gorham’s what a pleasure, To fill the glass once more, And drink beyond all measure. ’Tis that’s the way to see The lakes of neat Killarney, So don’t be doubting me, For I never was at Blarney. Tow, row, row, row, row, etc. 23

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2011-02-24T00:00:00

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