Collection of Irish Song Lyrics
O, Father dear, I often hear you speak of Erin's Isle,
Her her lofty scenes her valleys green, her mountains rude and wild
You said it is a lovely place wherein a prince might dwell,
Why have you then forsaken her, the reason to me tell?
My son, I loved our native land with energy and pride
Until a blight fell on my crops my and sheep and cattle died,
The rents and taxes were too high, I could not them redeem,
And that's the cruel reason why I left Old Skibbereen.
It's well I do remember on a bleak November's day,
The landlord and the sheriff came to drive us all away;
they set my house on fire with their cursed English spleen
And that's another reason why I left Old Skibbereen.
Your mother, too, God rest her soul, lay on the snowy ground,
She fainted in her anguish seein' the desolation round.
She never rose, but passed away from sleep to mortal dream,
And found a quiet grave, my boy, in dear old Skibbereen.
It's well I do remember the year of forty-eight,
When we arose with Erin's boys to fight against our fate;
I was hunted through the mountains as a traitor to the Queen,
And that's another reason that I left Old Skibbereen.
Oh father dear, the day will come when in answer to the call
Each Irishman with feeings stern will answer one and all,
I'll be the man to lead the van, beneath our flag of green,
And loud and high we'll raise the cry," Remember Skibbereen!"