The Mountains Of Mourne

 

Oh, Mary this London's a wonderful sight

with the people here working by day and by night.

They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat,

But There's gangs of them digging for

gold in the street.

At least when I asked them that's what I was told,

So I took just a hand at this digging for gold,

But for all that I found here I might as well be,

Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course-

Well, now he is here at the head of the Force.

I met him today, I was crossing the Strand,

And he stopped  the whole street with one wave of his hand;

And there we stood talking of days that are gone,

And the whole population of London looked on;

But for all these great powers he's wishful like me,

To be back where dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.

There's beautiful girls here-oh, never you mind

With beautiful shapes Nature never designed,

And lovely complexions, all roses and cream (crame)

But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same;

That if at those roses you venture to sip,

The colours might all come away on your lip;

So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me,

Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

The Irish Girl With Roses

Leith Ridley

Bulgarian artist

"The Mountains Of Mourne"
Originally spelt "The Mountains o' Mourne"
 Based on the traditional Irish folk song, "Carrigdhoun"
Percy  French
(1854-1920)
Irish musician