h3ndrik
13 years ago
34 changed files with 381 additions and 314 deletions
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\selectlanguage{english} |
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\songcolumns{2} |
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\beginsong{The Foggy Dew}[by=Traditional] |
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\beginsong{Foggy Dew}[by=Traditional] |
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\lilypond{the_foggy_dew} |
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\beginverse |
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As\[Mim] down the glen one Easter\[Ré] morn to a\[Sol] city \[Mim]fair rode I |
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There\[Mim] Armed lines of marching\[Ré] men in \[Sol]squadrons\[Mim] passed me by |
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No\[Sol] fife did hum nor\[Ré] battle\[Sim] drum did\[Sol] sound it's \[Mim]dread tatoo |
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But the\[Mim] Angelus bell o'er the Liffey\[Ré] swell rang\[Sol] out through the\[Mim] foggy dew |
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As \[Am]down the glen one \[G]Easter \[Em]morn |
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to a \[Am]city \[G]fair rode \[Am]I |
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There \[Am]Armed lines of \[G]marching \[Em]men |
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in \[Am]squadrons \[Dm]passed me \[Am]by |
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No \[C]pipe did hum no \[G]battle \[C]drum |
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did \[Am]sound it's \[Em]dread \[F]ta\[G]too |
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But the \[Am]Angelus bell o'er the \[G]Liffey \[Em]swell |
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rang \[Am]out through the \[Dm]foggy \[Am]dew |
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\endverse |
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\beginverse |
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Right proudly high over Dublin Town they hung out the flag of war |
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'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky than at Sulva or Sud El Bar |
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And from the plains of Royal Meath strong men came hurrying through |
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While Britannia's Huns, with their long range guns sailed in through the foggy dew |
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Right proudly high over Dublin Town |
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they hung out the flag of war |
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'Twas better to die 'neath an Irish sky |
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than at Sulva or Sud El Bar |
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And from the plains of Royal Meath |
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strong men came hurrying through |
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While Britannia's Huns, with their long range guns |
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sailed in through the foggy dew |
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\endverse |
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\beginverse |
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'Twas Britannia bade our Wild Geese go that small nations might be free |
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But their lonely graves are by Sulva's waves or the shore of the Great North Sea |
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Oh, had they died by Pearse's side or fought with Cathal Brugha |
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Their names we will keep where the fenians sleep 'neath the shroud of the foggy dew |
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'Twas Britannia bade our Wild Geese |
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go that small nations might be free |
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But their lonely graves are by Sulva's waves |
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or the shore of the Great North Sea |
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Oh, had they died by Pearse's side |
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or fought with Cathal Brugha |
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Their names we will keep where the fenians sleep |
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'neath the shroud of the foggy dew |
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\endverse |
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\beginverse |
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But the bravest fell, and the requiem bell rang mournfully and clear |
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For those who died that Eastertide in the springing of the year |
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And the world did gaze, in deep amaze, at those fearless men, but few |
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Who bore the fight that freedom's light might shine through the foggy dew |
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But the bravest fell, and the requiem bell |
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rang mournfully and clear |
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For those who died that Eastertide |
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in the springing of the year |
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And the world did gaze, in deep amaze, |
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at those fearless men, but few |
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Who bore the fight that freedom's light |
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might shine through the foggy dew |
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\endverse |
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\beginverse |
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Ah, back through the glen I rode again and my heart with grief was sore |
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For I parted then with valiant men whom I never shall see more |
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But to and fro in my dreams I go and I'd kneel and pray for you, |
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For slavery fled, O glorious dead, When you fell in the foggy dew |
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Ah, back through the glen I rode again |
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and my heart with grief was sore |
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For I parted then with valiant men |
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whom I never shall see more |
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But to and fro in my dreams |
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I go and I'd kneel and pray for you, |
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For slavery fled, O glorious dead, |
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When you fell in the foggy dew |
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\endverse |
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\endsong |
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