Does anyone have the lyrics for “Eileen Og A Stor”? It is a love ballad going back to the Renaissance and sung to the tune of “The Croppy Boy.”
Thanks.
hi CM
this is the only one I know of.
EILEEN OG
Eileen Og, and that the darlin’s name is
Through the barony her features they were famous
If we loved her, who is there to blame us
For wasn’t she the pride of Petravore?
But her beauty made us all so shy
Not a man could look her in the eye
Boys, O boys, sure that’s reason why
We’re in mourning for the pride of Petravore
CHORUS
Eileen Og, me heart is growing grey
Ever since the day, you wandered far away
Eileen Og, there’s good fish in the sea
But there’s none of them like the pride of Petravore
Friday at the fair of Ballintubber
Eileen met McGrath the cattle jobber
I’d like to set me mark upon the robber
For he stole away the Pride of Petravore
He never seemed to see the girl at all
Even when she ogled him underneath her shawl
Looking big and masterful when she was looking small
Most provoking for the Pride of Petravore
Chorus
So it went as it was in the beginning
Eileen Og was bent upon the winning
Big McGrath contentedly was grinning
Being courted by the Pride of Petravore
Says he, 'I know a girl who’d knock you into fits
At that Eileen nearly lost her wits
The upshot of the ruction was that now the robber sits
With his arm around the Pride of Petravore
Chorus
Boys, O boys, with fate 'tis hard to grapple
Of my eye ‘tis Eileen was the apple
And now to see her walkin’ to the chapel
Wid the hardest featured man in Petravore
And now boys, this is all I have to say
When you do your courting make no display
If you want them running after you just walk the other way
For they’re mostly like the Pride of Petravore
Chorus
best wishes
U
Unregulated,
Thank-you for posting the lyrics to “Eileen Og”. Although it wasn’t the song I was looking for, I like to learn new songs.
I finally found the song I remembered. I’d have found it a lot sooner if I had remembered the name correctly: “Colleen Og Asthore”. Here it is, for anyone who is interested:
Colleen Oge Asthore
When I marched away to war,
How you kissed me o’er and o’er;
Weeping, pressed me, sobbing, blessed me,
Colleen, Colleen Oge asthore.
Ah! but when you dreamed me dead,
Sad was your heart my lonely maid;
Ever grieving, ever weaving
Willow, willow for your head.
“Nay! he lives” – your mother said,
But you only shook your head;
“Why deceive me, ah! believe me,
Mother, mother, he is dead.”
So you pined and pined away,
Till, when in the winter grey,
Home I hasted – wan and wasted
Colleen, Colleen Oge, you lay.
Then your cheek so pale before,
With the rose of hope once more
Softly blooming, flower-like perfuming
Blossomed, Colleen Oge asthore.
Till upon the chapel floor,
Side by side we knelt and swore,
Duty dearest, love sincerest,
Colleen, Colleen Oge asthore.
Lyrics come from 1000 Years of Irish Poetry, edited by Kathleen Hoagland.