LYRICS FOR "RISE UP"

Sweet Lover of Mine

As I came o’er by Bonny Moor Hill,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

I met a wee lass and they called her Nell,

Longing to be a sweet lover of mine.

It’s questions three I’ll ask of thee,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

It’s questions three, you must answer me,

Before you’ll be a sweet lover of mine.

You must make me a cambric shirt,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

Without one stitch of your needle work,

Before you’ll be a sweet lover of mine.

Then wash it down in yonder well,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

Where water ne’er ran, or rain never fell,

Before you’ll be a sweet lover of mine.

Then dry it out on yonder thorn,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

Where blossom ne’er bloomed since Adam was born,

Before you’ll be a sweet lover of mine.

You must get me an acre of land,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

Between the salt sea and sea water strand,

Before you’ll be a sweet lover of mine.

Then plough it all with an auld ram’s horn,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

Then sow it o’er with one grain of corn,

Before you’ll be a sweet lover of mine.

You must sheer it with a sickle of leather,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

Then bind it up with a peacock’s feather,

Before you’ll be a sweet lover of mine.

Then stook it o’er yonder sea,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

And bring the shell sheaf dry unto me,

Before you’ll be a sweet lover of mine.

When you’ve done and finished your work,

Every rose grows bonny in time,

You may call to me for your cambric shirt,

Then you’ll be a sweet lover of mine.

The Banks of Sweet Dundee

It's of a farmer's daughter, so beautiful I'm told.

Her parents died and left her five hundred pounds in gold.

She lived all with her uncle, was the cause of all her woe,

So, soon you’ll hear this maid so fair that caused his overthrow.

Her uncle had a ploughboy young Mary loved fair well

‘Twas in her uncle's garden some tales of love they'd tell.

But there was a wealthy squire, who oft her came to see

But still she loved her ploughboy on the banks of sweet Dundee.

‘Twas early one May morning, when Mary's uncle rose,

Straight away to Mary's room so speedily did go;

“It's rise you up young Mary, a lady you will be,

The squire's waiting for you on the Banks of Sweet Dundee.”

“Oh, I don't want your squires, nor lords, or dukes likewise,

Young Willie he appeared to me like diamonds in my eyes.”

“Begone, unruly female, you ne'er shall happy be,

For I will banish William from the banks of sweet Dundee.“

The press gang came to William when he was all alone,

He boldly fought for liberty though there was ten to one;

The blood it flew in torrents. “Oh kill me now,” said he,

“I would rather die for Mary on the Banks of Sweet Dundee.”

This maid one day was walking, lamenting for her love,

She met the wealthy squire down in her uncle's grove.

He put his arms around her, “Stand off, stand off,” said she;

“You sent the only lad I love from the banks of sweet Dundee.“

He clashed his arms around her and tried to throw her down;

Two pistols and a sword she spied beneath his morning gown.

Young Mary took the pistols and the sword he used so free;

And she did fire and shot the squire on the banks of sweet Dundee.

Her uncle overheard, and hastened to the ground,

“Oh since you killed the squire, I'll give you your death wound!”

“Stand off!” oh then, young Mary cried, “undaunted I will be!”

The sword she drew and her uncle slew on the banks of sweet Dundee.

Young William he was sent for and quickly did return,

As soon as he came back again young Mary ceased to mourn;

The day it was appointed, they joined their hands so free,

And now they live in splendour on the Banks of Sweet Dundee.

The Wife of Usher’s Well

There was a woman and she lived alone,

Babies, she had three;

She sent them away to the north country,

To learn their grammarie.

They’d not been gone but a very short time,

Scarcely six weeks to the day,

When death, cold death, spread through the land,

And swept them babes away.

She prayed to the Lord, in Heaven above;

Wearing a starry crown,

“Oh, send to me my three little babes;

Tonight, or in the morning soon.”

It was very close to Christmas time,

The nights was cold and long,

And the very next morning, at the break of day,

Them babes come a-running home.

She set the table for them to eat,

Upon it, spread bread and wine.

“Come eat, come drink, my three little babes;

Come eat, come drink, of mine.”

“Oh, mother, we can’t eat your bread;

Neither can we drink your wine,

For tomorrow morning, at the break of day,

Our Saviour we must join.”

She made the bed in the back-most room,

Upon it, she spread a sheet,

Upon the top, a golden spread,

For to help them babes asleep.

“Rise up, rise up!”, said the eldest one,

“Rise up, rise up!”, said she,

For tomorrow morning, at the break of day,

Our saviour we must see.

“Cold clods of clay roll o’er our heads,

Green grass grows on our feet,

And thy sweet tears, my mother dear,

Will wet our winding sheet.”

Neillí Pluincéad

A Neilí, an chúil chraobhaigh,

Bhfuil do dhá shúil ar dháth

An fhéir ghlais,

'S tú a' féachaint gach lá,

Ar na bréag-bhfuil mé rá,

Tú ghoil na bhfear

Ó Ard-Mhacha bréige,

Fuair clú-mhór ó Ghaolaibh

Le tréana do lámh.

Ach a cheannsacht chiúin chéile,

Más léir leatsa-’n spórt

Ó-ní-bheidh tú gan ceol,

Dá gcloisfinn uait scéala,

Ghluaisfinn do 'd fhéachaint a phéirlin an chúil bhreá

Le-d’ ghruadh ar dháth na gcaortha,

Ós tú-a fuair an bua

Thar na céadaibh de mhnáibh.

Lady Diamond

There lived a king, and a glorious king,

And a king of noble fame

And he had daughters only one

Lady Diamond was her name, her name,

Lady Diamond was her name.

She had a boy, a kitchen boy, 

And a boy of muckle scorn,

But she loved him deep and she loved him high,

As the grass grows through the corn, the corn,

As the grass grows through the corn.

And it fell about a winter’s night

The king could get no rest 

And-he’s come-up to his daughter dear

Just like some wandering ghost, a ghost

Just like some wandering ghost

“Rise up, rise up out of your bed,

Rise up, put on your gown,

Come tell to me, my Diamond dear,

To whom you grow so round, so round,

To whom you grow so round.”

“Is it a baron or a lord

Or a man of high degree?

Come tell to me, my Diamond dear

And I pray don't lie to me, to me,

And I pray don't lie (triplet down) to me.”

“Well it's not a baron, nor a lord,

Nor a man of high degree,

But it's my darling kitchen boy

Where but I lie to thee, to thee, 

Where but I lie to thee.”

Oh come to me my merry men all,

By thirty and by three,

And bring to me this kitchen boy,

We’ll murder him secretly.

And they’ve torn the heart from out of his breast,

Placed it in a cup of gold,

Presented it to his Diamond dear, 

For she was both stout and bold, so bold,

She was both stout and bold

So she's taken up his bonny heart

And placed it by her own,

And she's washed it with her falling tears

And by morning she was gone.

Oh, where were you my merry men all

That I give meat and wage

Could you not stay my cruel hand

When I was in a rage, a rage,

When I was in a rage.

For gone is all my heart’s delight,

Oh, gone is all my joy,

For my own dear Diamond, she is dead,

Likewise, my kitchen boy.



Teresa Horgan