Miguel Rodriguez in Martindale is doing 42 things including…

learn a new song every day for a month

1 cheer

 

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Miguel Rodriguez has written 5 entries about this goal

Day 4 - Rising Of The Moon

Now come tell me Sean O’Farrell tell me why you hurry so.
Hush my bhuachaill, hush and listen, and his cheeks were all aglow.
I have orders from the Captain: make you ready quick and soon,
for the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon,
the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

And come tell me Sean O’Farrell where the gathering is to be?
At the old spot by the river quite well known to you and me?
And by way of signal token, whistle loud the marching tune,
with your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon.

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon,
wth your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

Out of many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night,
many a manly heart was throbbing for the blessed morning light.
Murmurs ran along the valley like the banshees lonely croon,
and a thousand blades a flashing by the rising of the moon.

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon,
a thousand bladees were flashing by the rising of the moon

All along the singing river a black mass of men was seen,
and above their shining weapons hung their own beloved green.
“Death to every foe and traitor, forward strike a marching tune”
and “Hurrah!” me boys for freedom, ‘tis the rising of the moon

At the rising of the moon, at the rising of the moon,
and hurrah me boys for freedom, ‘tis the rising of the moon.

Well they fought for poor old Ireland, and full bitter was their fate,
oh, what glorious pride and sorrow, fills the name of ninety-eight!
Yet, thank God, e’en still are beating hearts in manhood burning noon,
who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin’ of the moon!

By the rising of the moon, By the rising of the moon
Who would follow in their footsteps, at the risin’ of the moon.



Day 3 - Follow Me Up To Carlow

Lift Mac Cahir Og your face, brooding o’er the old disgrace
that black FitzWilliam stormed your place and drove you to the Fern.
Gray said victory was sure, soon the firebrand he’d secure
until he met at Glenmalure, Fiach Mac Hugh O’Byrne

Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam have a care, fallen is your star, low
Up with halberd, out with sword, on we go for, by the Lord,
Fiach Mac Hugh has given his word: “Follow me up to Carlow.”

See the swords of Glen Imayle flashing o’er the English Pale;
see all the children of the Gael, beneath O’Byrne’s banners.
Rooster of the fighting stock, would you let a Saxon cock
crow out upon an Irish rock? Fly up and teach him manners.

Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam have a care, fallen is your star, low
Up with halberd, out with sword, on we go for, by the Lord,
Fiach Mac Hugh has given his word: “Follow me up to Carlow.”

From Tassagart to Clonmore flows a stream of Saxon Gore.
Great is Rory Og O’More at sending loons to Hades.
White is sick and Lane is fled, now for black FitzWilliams head,
we’ll send it over, dripping red, to Liza and her ladies

Curse and swear Lord Kildare, Fiach will do what Fiach will dare
Now FitzWilliam have a care, fallen is your star, low
Up with halberd, out with sword, on we go for, by the Lord,
Fiach Mac Hugh has given his word: “Follow me up to Carlow.”



Day 2 - The Outlaw Raparee

My spurs are rusted, my coat is rent, my plume is damp with rain,
and the thistle down and the barley beard are thick on my horses mane.
But my rifle’s as bright as my sweetheart’s eye, my arm is strong and free.
What care have I for your king or laws? I’m an outlawed rapparee!

Lift your glasses friends with mine and give your hand to me.
I’m England’s foe, I’m Ireland’s friend, I’m an outlawed raparee, I’m an outlawed raparee!

Hunted from out our father’s home, pursued by steel and shot,
a bloody warfare we must wage or the gibbet’ll be our lot.
Hurrah! This war is welcome work, the hunted outlaw knows.
He steps unto his country’s love o’er the corpses of his foes.

Lift your glasses friends with mine and give your hand to me.
I’m England’s foe, I’m Ireland’s friend, I’m an outlawed raparee, I’m an outlawed raparee!

The mountain cavern is my home, high up in the crystal air,
and my bed of limestone iron ribbed and the brown heath smelling fair.
Let George or William only send his troops to burn or shoot;
we’ll meet them all on equal ground and we’ll fight them foot to foot!

Lift your glasses friends with mine and give your hand to me.
I’m England’s foe, I’m Ireland’s friend, I’m an outlawed raparee, I’m an outlawed raparee!



Day 1 - The Patriot Game

Come all you young rebels and list while I sing,
for love of one’s land is a terrible thing.
‘Cause it banishes Fear with the speed of a flame,
and it makes us all Part of the patriot game.

My name is O’Hanlon, I’m just gone sixteen.
My home is in Monaghan, where I was weaned.
I was taught all me life cruel England to blame,
and so I’m a part of this patriot game.

‘Tis barely two years since I wandered away
With the local battalion of the bold IRA;
I read of our heroes and wanted the same,
To play up my part in the patriot game.

They told me how Connolly was shot in a chair,
his wounds from the battle all bleeding and bare,
his fine body twisted, all battered and lame,
they soon made him part of their patriot game.

I joined a battalion from dear Bally Bay,
and gave up my boyhood so happy and gay.
For now as a soldier I’d drill and I’d train
to play my full part in this patriot game.

This Ireland of ours has for long been half free.
Six counties are under John Bull’s tyranny,
and still DeValera is greatly to blame
for shirking his part in our patriot game.

I don’t mind a bit if I shoot down police.
They’re lackeys for war never guardians of peace.
But yet at deserters I’ll never let aim,
those rebels who sold out their patriot game.

And now as I lie with my body all holes
I think of those traitors who bargained in souls.
I’m sorry me rifle has not done the same
to the Quislings who sold out the patriot game.



How quickly we forget

Time to challenge myself to do this. One song a day until I leave on the cruise. Not quite a month, but it is a good way to start. The theme for the next 19 days is Irish Rebel songs. Day 1 – The Patriot Game.



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