There are so many beautiful Irish songs, but my two favorites are; "The Shores of the Swilly" and "Spancil Hill". Both of these classics have such deep emotion in them, it's hard not to shed a tear at the remembrance of those we've lost. God bless the music makers.
"The Shores of the Swilly" by Phil Coulter (As sung by Sinead O'Conner)
By the shores of the Swilly, two children at play
The king of the castle, the queen of the may
Just me and my sister, in a world of pretend
Where the sun would keep shining, the day never end
By the shores of the Swilly, now with kids of our own
Another year over, and see how they've grown
Then we'd watch the last sunset, and walk arm in arm
Till I see you next summer; God keep you from harm
And if I was a flier who crashed now and then,
She would put me together and fly me again.
By the shores of the Swilly, with an aching inside
I'll watch as her body is raised from the tide...
Her life has been taken, and I'll never know why
But I feel in that moment, a part of me died...
"Spancil Hill" ~ by Michael Considine (As sung by the Dubliners)
Last night as I lay dreaming of pleasant days gone by
Me mind being bent on rambling to Ireland I did fly
I stepped on board a vision and I followed with the will
Til next I came to anchor at the cross of Spancil Hill
It being on the 23rd June the day before the fair
When lreland’s sons and daughters and friends assembled there
The young the old, the brave and the bold came their duty to fulfill
At the parish church in Clooney, a mile from Spancil Hill
I went to see my neighbors to hear what they might say
The old ones were all dead and gone, the young one’s turning grey
But I met the tailor Quigley, he’s as bold as ever still
Ah, he used to make me britches when I lived in Spancil Hill
I paid a flying visit to my first and only love
She’s as white as any lily, gentle as a dove
And she threw her arms around me saying “Johnny I love you still”
Oh she’s Ned the farmers daughter and the pride of Spancil Hill
I dreamt I held and kissed her as in the days of yore
“Ah, Johnny you’re only joking like many’s the time before”
The cock he crew in the morning he crew both loud and shrill
I awoke in California, many miles from Spancil Hill.