Songs

Songs for Cardiff. For those who may not know the words.

‘There is an Isle’

There is an Isle
A bonnie Isle
Stands proudly from
Stands proudly from the sea
And dearer far than all this world
Is that dear Isle
Is that dear Isle to me
It is not that alone it stands
Where all around is fresh and fair
But because, it is my native land
And my home, my home is there

But because, it is my native land
And my home, my home is there

Farewell, farewell
Though lands may meet

May meet my gaze
My gaze where e’re I roam
I shall not find
A spot so fair
As that dear Isle
As that dear Isle to me
It is not that alone it stands
Where all around is fresh and fair
But because, it is my native land
And my home, my home is there
But because, it is my native land
And my home, my home is there.

The Fields of Athenry.

By a lonely prison wall
I heard a a young girl calling
Michael, they are taking you away.
For you stole Travelian’s corn,
So the young might see the morn,
Now a prison ship lies waiting in the bay.

Chorus

Low lie the fields of Athenry
Where once we watched the small freebirds fly.
Our love was on the wing
We had dreams and songs to sing
As we wandered through the fields of Athenry.

By a lonely prison wall
I heard a young man calling,br>Nothing matters, Mary, when you’re free
Against the Famine and the Crown,
I rebelled, they ran me down,
Now you must raise our children with dignity.

Chorus

On the windswept harbour wall,
She watched the last star falling
As the prison ship sailed out across the sky
But she’ll wait and hope and pray,
For her love in Botany Bay
Whilst she’s lonely round the fields of Athenry.

Chorus

The Banks of my own Lovely Lee
How oft do my thoughts in their fancy take flight
To the home of my childhood away,
To the days when each patriot’s vision seem’d bright
Ere I dreamed that those joys should decay.
When my heart was as light as the wild winds that blow
Down the Mardyke through each elm tree,
Where I sported and play’d ‘neath each green leafy shade
On the banks of my own lovely Lee.

And then in the springtime of laughterr and song
Can I ever forget the sweet hours?
With the friends of my youth as we rambled along,br>’Mongst the green mossy banks and wild flowers.
Then too, when the evening sun’s sinking to rest
Sheds its golden light over the sea
The maid with her lover the wild daisies pressed
On the banks of my own lovely Lee
The maid with her lover the wild daisies pressed
On the banks of my own lovely Lee

‘Tis a beautiful land this dear isle of song
Its gems shed their light to the world
And her faithful sons bore thro’ ages of wrong,
The standard St. Patrick unfurled.
Oh! would I were there with the friends I love best
And my fond bosom’s partner with me
We’d roam thy banks over, and when weary we’d rest
By thy waters, my own lovely Lee,
We’d roam thy banks over, and when weary we’d rest
By thy waters, my own lovely Lee,

Oh what joys should be mine ere this life should decline
To seek shells on thy sea- girdled shore.
While the steel-feathered eagle, oft splashing the brine
Brings longing for freedom once more.

Oh all that on earth I wish for or crave
Is that my last crimson drop be for thee,
To moisten the grass of my forefathers’ grave
On the banks of my own lovely Lee

To moisten the grass of my forefathers’ grave
On the banks of my own lovely Lee