| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
IRISH SONGS AND LYRICS 363 |
||
|
BELLEWSTOYVN RACES
I
F a respite ye'd borrow from turmoil or sorrow, I'll tell you the secret of how it is done; 'Tis found in this version of all the diversion That Bellewstown knows when the races come on. Make one of a party whose spirits are hearty, Get a seat on a trap that is safe not to spill, In its well pack a hamper, then off for a scamper, And hurroo for the glories of Bellewstown Hill! |
||
|
On the road how they dash on, rank, beauty and fashion !
It Banagher bangs by the table o' war; From the coach of the quality, down to the jollity
Jogging along on an ould low-backed car. Though straw cushions are placed, two feet thick at laste,
It's concussive jollity to mollify still; O the cheeks of my Nelly are shaking like jelly
From the jolting she gets as she jogs to the Hill. |
||
|
Arrived at its summit the view that you come at,
From etherealized Mourne to where Tara ascends, There's no scene in our sireland, dear Ireland, old Ireland !
To which nature more exquisite loveliness lends. And the soil 'neath your feet has a memory sweet,
The patriots' deeds they hallow it still; Eighty-two's volunteers (would to-day saw their peers !)
Marched past in review upon Bellewstown Hill. |
||
|
|
||