Texts & Translations

Strike the Viol

Lyrics by Nahum Tate

Strike the viol, touch the lute, Wake the harp, inspire the flute. Sing your patroness’s praise, In cheerful and harmonious lays.

Oh, Had I Jubal’s Lyre!

Oh, Had I Jubal’s Lyre, or Miriam’s tuneful voice. To sounds like his, I would aspire, to sounds like his I would aspire In songs like hers, in songs like hers, Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, In songs, In songs, in songs, rejoice, rejoice, in songs like hers, rejoice.

Oh, Had I Jubal’s Lyre, or Miriam’s tuneful voice. To sounds...to sounds, like his I would aspire In songs, like hers, in songs like hers, Rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, rejoice, In songs like her rejoice. My humble strains but faintly, How much to heavn’ and thee I owe.

Flow My Tears (Lachrimae)

Lyrics & Music by John Dowland

Flow, my tears, fall from your springs! Exiled for ever, let me mourn; Where night’s black bird her sad infamy sings, There let me live forlorn.

Down vain lights, shine you no more! No nights are dark enough for those That in despair their lost fortunes deplore. Light doth but shame disclose.

Never may my woes be relieved, Since pity is fled; And tears and sighs and groans my weary days Of all joys have deprived.

From the highest spire of contentment My fortune is thrown; And fear and grief and pain for my deserts Are my hopes, since hope is gone.

Hark! you shadows that in darkness dwell, Learn to condemn light. Happy, happy they that in hell Feel not the world’s despite.

Shepherd, Shepherd Leave Decoying (from King Arthur)

Lyrics by John Dryden

Shepherd, shepherd, leave decoying: Pipes are sweet on summer’s day, But a little after toying, Women have the shot to pay. Here are marriage-vows for signing: Set their marks that cannot write, After that, without repining, Play, and welcome, day and night.

So Beautie on the Water Stood (from The Masque of Beauty)

by Ben Jonson

So beauty on the waters stood When Love had severed earth from flood! So when he parted air from fire, He did with concord all inspire! And then a motion he them taught That elder than himself was thought, Which thought was, yet, the child of earth, For Love is elder than his birth.

Óró mo bháidín (Oh my little boat)¹

Translation Anna O’Connell

Crochfaidh mé seolta is rachaidh mé siar Óró mo churaichín ó! ‘S go hoíche Fhéil’ Eoin ní thiocfaidh mé aniar Óró mo bháidín!

Refrain: Óró mo churaichín ó! Óró mo bháidín

Nach breá í mo bháidín ag snámh ar a’ gcuan Óró mo churaichín ó! ‘S na céaslaí á dtarraingt go láidir ‘s go buan Óró mo bháidín!

Refrain

‘S nach éachtach a léimreach thar tonntracha árd, óró, mo bháidín, ‘S nach éatrom í iompar aníos thar an trá, óró, mo bháidín

Refrain

I will raise the sails and I will go west, Oh my little currach!² And not return until the Feast of St. John,³ Oh my little boat!

Refrain: Oh my little currach! Oh my little boat

Isn’t my boat lovely, Swimming on the harbor? Oh my little currach! And the oars being pulled So strong and so steady, Oh my little boat!

Refrain

And is it not an achievement, to leap up over the high waves, Oh my little currach? And is it not so easy, to carry back to shore, Oh my little boat!

Refrain

¹ Some of the text for this song (verses 1-2) is thought to have been written by Pádraic H. Pearse in his play Iosagán (1910), or Pearse based his text off a previously existing folk song. The origin of the melody is contested. The third verse is based on Mary O’Hara’s performance of this piece. ² A Currach, or Curragh, is an Irish wooden frame boat or coracle, historically covered by animal skins, and now typically covered with canvas. ³ Bonfire Night, celebrated on the eve of June 24th, the feast day of John the Baptist in the Catholic calendar. In Ireland it is marked by an ancient ritual (predating the Christian feast) of burning fires.

Skye Boat Song

Lyrics by Robert Louis Stevenson, 1892

Sing me a song of a lad that is gone, Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye.

*Mull was astern, *Rúm on the port, Eigg on the starboard bow; Glory of youth glowed in his soul; Where is that glory now? Sing me a song…

Give me again all that was there, Give me the sun that shone! Give me the eyes, give me the soul, Give me the lad that’s gone!

Sing me a song… Billow and breeze, islands and seas, Mountains of rain and sun, All that was good, all that was fair, All that was me… is gone.

*Mull and Rúm: islands near Skye

A Health to the Company

Kind friends and companions, come join me in rhyme, Come lift up your voices in chorus with mine, Come lift up your voices, all grief to refrain, For we may or might never all meet here again.

Here’s a health to the company and one to my lass, Let’s drink and be merry all out of one glass, Let’s drink and be merry, all grief to refrain, For we may or might never all meet here again.

Here’s a health to the wee lass that I love so well, For style and for beauty there’s none can excel, There’s a smile on her countenance as she sits upon my knee, There is no man in this wide world as happy as me.

Refrain

Our ship lies at anchor, she is ready to dock, I wish her safe landing without any shock, And if ever I should meet you by land or by sea, I will always remember your kindness to me.

Refrain

Màiri Bhàn (Mairi’s Wedding)

Scottish folk song Gaelic lyrics by John Roderick Bannerman, 1934 English lyrics by Sir Hugh Robertson, 1936

Gaol mo chridhe-sa Màiri Bhàn, Màiri bhòidheach, sgeul mo dhàin ‘S i mo ghaol-sa Màiri bhàn, ‘S tha mi dol ga pòsadh.

Step we gaily, on we go Heel for heel and toe for toe Arm in arm and row on row All for Mairie’s wedding.

Over hillways up and down, Myrtle green and bracken brown, Past the shielings through the town, All for sake of Mairie.

Refrain

Oh plenty herring, plenty meal, Plenty peat to fill her creel. Plenty bonny bairns as well, That’s the toast for Mairie.

Refrain

Love of my heart, fair-haired Mary, Pretty Mary, theme of my song. She’s my darling, fair-haired Mary, And oh! I’m going to marry her.