For the discussion and Appreciation of Celtic Folk Music


Ad Honorem
Feb 2011
Aye, repetition is unavoidable in this wonderful thread and I am sure old Chookie ,wherever he is in the cosmos, would have been tapping his heels to the rattlin' bog. As for Olly if he starts greetin like Sinead I will disown him. :lol:
Aye boohoo to you too bawheid :p



Ad Honorem
Oct 2012
One from Irish soldiers serving in the Union Army during the American Civil War...


Young America and Ould Ireland

It's a soldier I am, and I'm wearing the green;
With the boys of the army a-fighting I've been;
With my knapsack and gun, wheresoever I be,
Sure it's Union I fight for till Ireland is free.
Oh, then, let me be living or dying.
It's a sigh for the ould sod I'm sighing,
But the tyrant I'll still be defying,
In America's Irish Brigade!

In the Seven Days fight, sure I stood at my post,
And each pop of my gun made some rebel a ghost;
And whenever the word came to charge, be me soul,
I made in some blackguard a bayonet-hole!
Oh, bedad, it's meself they were slighting,
For the flag of the free I was fighting,
And the slaughter I made was delighting,
In America's Irish Brigade.

Whin ould Stonewall came down like a thousand of brick
It's meself and the boys drove him back double quick
For we thought of Bull-Run, and our bosoms were full
And we wished we were running an ould Johnny Bull,
If the boys of ould Ireland would name it,
Our freedom we soon would regain it;
It's meself would go in wid my bayonet.
In America's Irish Brigade!

Sure there's hope for ould Ireland, when Irishmen learn
How to handle a gun, or a bayonet turn;
And, by this and by that, if we once get the chance,
There'll be rifles in England that don't come from France
Sure it's friends we have here, when we need'em
Who, when starving, sent bread for to feed'em,
And they'll help us to fight for our freedom--
America's Irish Brigade!
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Ad Honorem
Oct 2012
Another one from the American Civil War, this one from the Confederacy...



When old Virginia took the field,
And wanted men to rally on,–
To be at once her sword and shield,–
She formed her First Battalion.

Although her sons were volunteers,
And brave as ever bore a brand,
The good old lady had her fears,
That they might prove but weak of hand.

She therefore wisely cast about,
For men of mettle and of mould.–
With nerve of steel and muscle stout,
Like those that lived in days of old.

She wanted men of pluck and might,–
Of fiery heart and horny hand,–
To wield the pick as well as fight;
Or build a breastwork out of sand.

Or should she march to meet the foe,
That threatened on her Western border,
She wanted willing men to go,
When told to put her roads in order.

Or should the volunteers retreat,
With baggage that might make them carry,
‘Would blunt the edge of their defeat,
To bear a hand and help them carry.

Or should some die of fell disease,–
The surgeon having failed to save,–
Sure men who work with so much ease,
Would volunteer to dig a grave!

For these, and reasons quite as sound,
When old Virginia went to war,
She circumspectly viewed the ground,
And plumped the middle man from taw!

In other words, to change the figure,
When she stood up and took her rifle,
And put her finger on the trigger,
She meant to work, and not to trifle.

And standing thus, yet wanting them,
Some regulars to rally on,
She took three hundred Irishmen,
And formed her First Battalion.

And when the storm of battle sweeps,
Where fiercest foemen sally on,
There, hard at work, or piled in heaps,
She’ll find her bold battalion.
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Aug 2011
Caladh Nua-pronc:Coll-ah-Noo-ah(meaning ' New Harbour' Or New Haven) They have taken the stage in cities such as Paris, Vienna, Copenhagen, Berlin, Mumbai, Vancouver, and Hanover College Hanover Indiana- where I had the privilege of seeing them.


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Ad Honorem
Aug 2009
Athens, Greece
One of the best marches I've ever heard. The Chieftains are amazing, to my understanding they are partly responsible for the popularity of Irish music worldwide.

Incredible voice from Scotland.



Ad Honorem
Aug 2009
Athens, Greece

I had to post this song, its mood and the passion in the voice of Luke Kelly haunt me these last couple days. The sharp contrast of the industrial gloom with the bright spark of life and love:

I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, Dirty old town

I heard a siren from the docks
Saw a train set the night on fire
I smelled the spring on the smoky wind
Dirty old town, Dirty old town

Clouds are drifting across the moon
Cats are prowling on their beat
Spring's a girl from the streets at night
Dirty old town, Dirty old town

I'm going to make me a good sharp axe
Shining steel tempered in the fire
I'll chop you down like an old dead tree
Dirty old town, Dirty old town

I met my love by the gas works wall
Dreamed a dream by the old canal
I kissed my girl by the factory wall
Dirty old town, Dirty old town

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