Kerry Songs
Kerry, the loveliest of the Counties of Ireland, with its magnificent, breath-taking scenery, its magical lakes and mountains…Kerry of the songs and stories, whose greatest possession is its own warm-hearted friendly people. However County Kerry is, above and before all, a county which has always stood four square for Irish Freedom, the County of Piaras Feirtear, Thomas Ashe, Austin Stack, O`Rahilly, Charlie Kerins and many other patriot sons. Kerry with its lovely Corca Dhuibhne and Uibh Rathach Gaeltacht areas has always been to the fore in the fight to restore the Irish Language to its rightful place. Kerry has many delightful songs in the Gaelic language, one of the best loved of these being “Fainne Geal an Lae.” The song is about wooing a lovely Girl on the banks of Loch Lene, one of Killarney’s famous lakes, at the dawning of the day. Fainne Geal an Lae Maidin moch do ghabhas amach Ar bhruacha Locha Lein An samhradh ag teacht san chraobh le m`ais Gus lonnradh te on ngrein Ar thais dom tri bhailte-puirt As banta mine reidh Ce gheobhainn le m`ais ach an Cuilfhionn deas Le fainne geal an Lae Ni raibh brog na stocai caidhp nd cloc Ar mo stoirin og n speir Ach folt fionn orga sios go troi gh Ag fas go barr an fheir Bhi calan cruite ci na glaic S ar dhrucht ba dheas a sceimh Do thug barr-ghean o Venus deas Le fainne geal an Lae Do shuigh an bhrideach sios le m`ais
Ar bhinse glas den bhfear
THE BEST-loved of all Kerry songs must surely be “The Rose of Tralee”, a simple love ballad, from which has evolved one of Ireland’s most acclaimed festivals. The story of the song is so well known as scarcely needs re-telling. It is a song about the love of William Pembroke Mulchinock and a local girl called Mary O’Connor. William a staunch nationalist, was quite wrongly blamed for a killing during a THE BEST-loved of all Kerry songs must surely be “The Rose of Tralee”, a simple love ballad, from which has evolved one of Ireland’s most acclaimed festivals. The story of the song is so well known as scarcely needs re-telling. It is a song about the love of William Pembroke Mulchinock and a local girl called Mary O’Connor. William a staunch nationalist, was quite wrongly blamed for a killing during a Daniel O’Connell meeting in Tralee, and was forced to flee the country. He worked for six years as a war correspondent, in India. In the spring of 1849, having been cleared of all complicity in the murder, he returned to Tralee, hoping to see his beloved Mary once again. But, his hopes were sadly blighted. Arriving in the town, he saw a cortege pass by, and was told that it was the funeral of Mary O’Connor. He was heart-broken. He later went onto marry a local girl and moved to America, where his two daughters were born. The marriage, sadly, was not a success. The couple separated in 1855, and William returned to Tralee. He became a victim of extreme depression and sought solace in
alcohol. He died on 13th October, 1864, at the early age of 44, and is
buried beside his beloved Mary, in Clogherbflefl graveyard. Here, then, is the charming song
which William Muichinock wrote
of his loved one...
The Rose Of Tralee The pale moon was rising above the green mountain, The sun was declining beneath the blue sea; When I strayed with my love to the pure crystal fountain, That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee. She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer, Yet ‘twos not he-r beauty alone that won me; Oh no, ‘twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee. The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading, And Mary, all smiling, was listening to me; The moon through the valley her pale rays was shedding, When I won the heart of the Roe of Tralee. Though lovely and fair as the rose of the summer, Yet ‘twas not her beauty alone that won me; Oh no, ‘twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning That made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee. In the far fields of India, ‘mid war’s dreadful thunder, Her voice was a solace and comfort to me; But the chill hand of death has now rent us asunder, I’m lonely tonight for the Rose of Tralee! She was lovely and fair as the rose of
the summer,
Yet ‘twas not her beauty alone that
won me;
Oh no, ‘twas the truth in her eyes
ever dawning
That made me love Mary, the Rose
of Tralee.
OUR NEXT offering is the evocative nostalgic ballad “Kerry Long Ago”. It was written in the early years of the last century by Sean O’Nolan, a native of Baltinglass, Co Wicklow, who spent most of his life in the United States, where he died, in 1943, at the age of 72. He composed many songs, of which the best-known are “Kerry Long Ago” and “The Boys from County Cork”.
Kerry Long Ago Oh, God be with you Kerry, Where in childhood we were merry; V#’hen we’d hear the fiddler tuning up’ And resining his bow. At the crossroads we’d be dancing, And our colleens shyly glancing, Just like their dads and mothers did, in Kerry long ago. Now my heart is sad and weary, In my dreams I see my Mary; With her golden tresses flying, On her cheeks the rosy glow. I can hear her softly singing, With Phil Hal pin’s fiddle ringing, As he played “The Stack of Barley”, in Kerry long ago. We’d go down to Mary’s dairy, With hearts so light and airy; At the churn we’d take our turn, Till the butter would o’er flow. To the kitchen we’d retire, And seek out the biggest liar, Just to tell us fairy stories, Of old Kerry long ago. Then we’d stroll home in the
moonlight,
And our colleens’waists we’d hug
tight;
Just to save them from the fairies,
In the raheen down below.
Then we’d say goodnight and kiss
them,
We’d go home and pray God bless
them,
The sweethearts of our boyhood days,
In Kerry long ago.
OUR FOURTH song, the ever-popular “Red is the Rose”.
The work of an anonymous poet, dates from the middle of the nineteenth century. It tells the sad tale of a young man who was deeply in love, but whose sweetheart and sister died during the Famine. He is now about to depart for far foreign fields.
Come over the hills, my bonnie Irish lass, Come over the hills to your darling; You choose the rose, love, and I’ll make the vow, And I’ll be your true love forever. Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows, And fair is the lily of the valley; Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne, But my love is fairer than any. ‘Twos down by Killarney’s green woods that we strayed, When the moon and the stars they were shining; The moon shone its rays on her locks of golden hair, When she swore she’d be my love forever. Red is the rose that in yonder garden grows, And fair is the lily of the valley; Clear is the water that flows from the Boyne, But my love is fairer than any. It’s not for the loss of my only sister, Kate, Ii’s not for the grief of my mother; ‘Tis all for the loss of my bonny Irish lass, That I’m leaving old Ireland forever. Red is the rose that in yonder garden
grows,
And fair is the lily of the valley;
Clear is the water that flows from the
Boyne,
But my love is fairer than any.
County Kerry, as we all know, was very much involved in the struggle for Irish freedom. In 1920, four young soldiers of Ireland were surrounded by crown forces in the valley of Knockanure. One of the four, Con Dee, managed to make his escape, but the other three were ruthlessly mown down by the enemy. They were Jerry Lyons, a native of Duagh; Paddy Walsh, of
Ballydonoghue and Pat Dalton from Athea, Co Limerick. They are
remembered in two fine ballads, one of them the work of Paddy
Drury. However, we have chosen Bryan MacMahon’s splendid song, The Valley of Knockanure You may si~ng and speak about Easter Week, And the heroes of Ninety Eight; Of Fenian men who roamed the glen, In victory or defeat. Their names are placed on history’s page, Their memory will endure; Not a song was sung of our darling sons, In the Valley of Knockanure. There was Walsh and Lyons and the Dalton boy, They were young and in their prime; They rambled to a lonely spot, Where the Black and Tans did hide. A republic bold they did uphold, Though outlawed on the moor; And side by side they fought and died, In the Valley of Knockanure. It was on a neighbouring hillside, We listened in hushed dismay; In every house, in every town, A young girl knelt to pray. They’re closing in around them now, With rifle fire so sure; And Lyons is dead and young Dalton’s down, In the Valley of Knockanure. But ‘ere the guns could seal his fate, Young Walsh had spoken true; With a prayer to God he spurned the sod, As against the hill he flew. The bullets tore his flesh in two, Yet he cried with voice so sure; “Revenge I’ll get for my comrades’ death, In the Valley of Knockanure”. The summer sun is sinking low,
Behind the field and lea;
The pale moonlight is shining bright,
Far off beyond Tralee.
The dismal stars and the clouds afar,
Are darkening o’er the moor;
And the banshee cried when young
Dalton died,
In the Valley of Knockanure. Another great Kerry song is a tribute to the young Tralee patriot, Charlie Kerins, or Cathal () Ciaráin~ as he preferred to be known. A third level student in Dublin, much involved in republican activities during the years of World War II, he was hanged in Mountjoy Jail on 1st December, 1944, by the government of the day. His death aroused huge indignation in Kerry~ particularly in his native Tralee. Anger raged, in particular, when it was discovered that the English hangman was employed to carry out the deed of death. Charlie Kerins, as well as being a republican and an Irish language activist was, as befitted a Kerryman, a splendid Gaelic footballer, who had played with the famed O’Rahillys Club, in Tralee. Following his death, the O’Rahillys players and officers ensured that his memory would live by adding his name to the club... from then on to be know as Kerins O’Rahillys. Kerins O’Rahillys went on to win three Kerry senior football titles in the 1950s. CharlieKerins’s grave, which I had the privilege of visiting some years ago, is in Ballyseedy Cemetery, not far from where eight other brave soldiers of freedom were done to death during the Civil War.
He is remembered in the splendid song composed by the stalwart Meath republican writer, Brian O’Higgins. It is entitled.
The Boy from Tralee Emmet and Barry and the Manches- ter Martyrs, A comrade have met in the bright Halls above; Another young life has been laid down for Ireland, Another true heart full offaith and of love, With Barnes and MacCormick he will live in our memory,
And inspire us to fight on ‘til Ireland is free; A friend to the faithful, afoe to the traitor - Young Cathal O Ciardin, the Boy from Tralee. He spoke like a soldier, he stood like a true man, When the cravens condemned him to death and to shame; He followed the path of a long line of he roes, And Ireland forever shall honour his name. On a First Friday morning in the month of December, The hangman from England came over the sea; And traitors to Ireland wreaked vengeance and hatred, On Cathal O Ciardin, the Boy from Tralee. God rest him tonight in the bright- I
ness of Heaven!
God strengthen each true man to
walk where he led,
To raise up the standard of justice
and freedom,
And win for the living the wage of
the dead!
When the rule of the traitors is ended
forever,
And the power of their masters, from
sea unto sea,
We’ll praise the brave soldier of
Poblacht na hEireann -
Young Cathal 0 Ciardin - the Boy
from Tralee.
Another great song, not really from County Kerry, but more famous than most 0f the Kerry songs. How Can You Buy Killarney An American landed on Erin’s green isle. He gazed at Killarney with rapturous smile. “How can I buy it?” he said to his guide. “I’ll tell you how,” with a smile he replied. How can you buy all the stars in the sky? How can you buy two blue Irish eyes? How can you purchase a fond mothers sighs? How can you buy Killarney? Nature bestowed all her gifts with a smile.
Te emerald, the shamrock, the blarney.
When you can buy all these wonderful things.
Then you can buy Killarney.
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