arr. Earlene Rentz To Work Upon The Railway In eighteen hundred forty-one, I put cord’roy breeches on to work upon the railway. Fillimioorieyeriay, to work upon the railway. In eighteen hundred forty-two, I left the old world for the new, I left the luck that brought me through to work upon the railway.
Fillimioorieye, Fillimiooriay, to work upon the railway. It’s go do this and go do that, I’ve had enough of this and that, I’ve nothing but an old straw hat to work upon the railway. Fillimioorieyeriay, to work upon the railway.
arr. Joseph Martin The Last Rose Of Summer (Thomas Moore) ‘Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming alone. All her lovely companions are faded and gone. No flower of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh to reflect back her blushes, or give sigh for sigh. I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one, to pine on the stem. Since the lovely are sleeping, go, sleep thou with them. Thus kindly, I scatter thy leaves
o’er the bed where thy mates of the garden lie scentless and dead. So soon may I follow, when friendships decay; and from love’s shining circle the gems drop away. When true hearts lie wither’d, and fond ones are flown, oh, who would inhabit this bleak world alone? ‘Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming all alone.
Bethany Clearfield, soprano soloist arr. Teena Chinn Irish Eyes are Smiling My Wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flow’r that grows. You may search ev’rywhere, but none can compare with my Wild Irish Rose. My Wild Irish Rose, the dearest flow’r that grows. And some day for my sake, she may let me take the bloom from my Wild Irish Rose. “Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li, too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, hush now, don’t you cry!
Too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, too-ra-loo-ra-li, too-ra-loo-ra-loo-ral, that’s an Irish lullaby.” When Irish eyes are smiling, sure it’s like a morn in Spring. In the lilt of Irish laughter you can hear the angels sing. When Irish hearts are happy, all the world seems bright and gay, and when Irish eyes are smiling sure they steal your heart away.
Week 6
9
