I am writing these lines with tears in my eyes
for a comrade who now has departed.
And my soul is heavy with grief and woe
And I’m almost broken hearted.
For the voice of the one that we’ll surely miss,
A voice that is gone forever.
Oh, Willie, A Stor, we’ll see you no more.
Oh, never, never, never.
There’s a gap in tradition that ne’er will be filled,
a wide gap that ne’er shall be mended.
On the hill o’er the town we laid you down
'twas sad that your young life ended.
Let’s hope that we’ll meet in that brighter land
with music and song forever.
A ruin, A ruin, you were taken too soon,
and your music we’ll hear again never.
You are up in high heaven, I hope tonight,
with you father and mother who bore you.
And the Dorans and Rowsome and Scully and Tadg,
the musicians who went before you.
By night and by day for you I’ll pray
to the blessed God above you.
That his angels may gather you under their wings
Is the prayer of one who loved you.
On the thirtieth anniversary of the passing of Willie Clancy, it seems appropriate to reread this lament by his friend and colleague, Junior Crehan, himself now gone. If anyone has the second lament at hand, please contribute. I will be thinking of Willie today when I play my pipes and what a revelation it was when I first heard his music. God rest him.
