Push for PORTER

izquierdaThe Ballyshannon Lanederecha

Michael O'Brien


Twas in '96 as the moon did fix
Her beams over Scullabogue
The twinkling stars and the planet Mars
Shone brightly o'er its grove
Where the Hessian brutes they bit the dust
And Cromwell's crew were slain
Where the yeomen fled and left their dead
In the Ballyshannon Lane

I sat awhile upon the stile
At the church in old Courthayle
One night in June as the silvery moon
O'er the rebels' grave did sail
Scenes of '98 which I relate
Passed through my youthful brain
And I prayed for the dead, who from Raheen bled
In the Ballyshannon Lane.

I passed Jim Moore's and the old forge door
Where old Evoy forged a pike
The night being kind - no rain or wind
Blew over hill or dyke
At Furlong's gate I chanced to wait
And thought how this youth was slain
For the Hessian crew this youth they slew
In the Ballyshannon Lane

My mother too, God rest her soul,
She showed me where he fell
Twas across the lands where Doyle's house stands
He fought manfully and well
And out by Kehoe's he chased the foes
And many a Hessian was slain
Till six bayonets passed through his rebel breast
In the Ballyshannon Lane

In Keating's Bawn at the morning's dawn
Where the barn was all in flames
My three uncles fell I'm grieved to tell
That's Martin, Tom and James
While my Aunt Kate stood at the gate
Herself and her child were slain
And my teeth still cringe for my revenge
In the Ballyshannon Lane

This was the song my mother sang
Into my youthful ears
While down her cheeks for weeks and weeks
Rolled hot and scalding tears
My brother Mike forged me a pike
For to take to the hills again
And if Ireland need I'm here to bleed
In the Ballyshannon Lane