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The Mountains of Mourne


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Traditional Irish song lyrics and chords) The Mountains Of Mourne by William Percy French, 1854-1920 . A fella went to London from his home near the Mountains of Mourne and wrote home to his girl about the things that he had seen there.

The Mountains of Mourne

       G             G7               C              A7       
Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sight
         D                                    C                G
With people here working by day and by night
                                G7            C              A7   
They don't sow potatoes, nor barley nor wheat
                 D7                                      G         C   G
But there' gangs of them digging for gold in the streets
    D7                                                                 G
At least when I asked them that's what I was told
                          G7                A7            D
So I just took a hand at this diggin' for gold
            G                     G7         D
But for all that I found there I might as well be
                  G                                           C                  G
Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I believe that when writin' a wish you expressed

As to how the fine ladies in London were dressed

Well, if you believe me, when asked to a ball

Faith, they don't wear no top to their dresses at all.

Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in trath

Say if they were bound for a ball or a bath

Don't be startin' them fashions now, Mary Macree,

Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I've seen England's king from the top of a bus

And I've never known him, but he means to know us.

And tho' by the Saxon we once were oppressed,

Still I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest.

And now that he's visited Erin's green shore

We'll be much better friends than we've been heretofore

When we've got all we want, we're as quiet as can 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 a wave of his hand

And there we stood talkin' of days that are gone

While the whole population of London looked on

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

To be back where the 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

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 waitin' for me

Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.