Poor old Grainne Mhaol, song

Dan McGonigle, singing in English
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Oh dreams to some they do come true they come with grief to more
As it did to me my country men around green Erin’s shore
I dreamt I was upon a hill beside a lovely vale
‘Twas there I spied a comely maid her name was Gráinne Mhaol

Her golden hair hung down her back and she was dressed in green
I thought she was the fairest soul that ever my eyes had ever seen
And as I grew near to her by the pleasant morning gale
She went along she sang her song poor old Gráinne Mhaol

I thought she had a splendid harp by her side she let it fall
She played the tune called Brian Boru Garryowen in splendid hall
God save Ireland was the next for the martyrs who died in jail
We need not fret we’ll be happy yet cried poor old Gráinne Mhaol

In O’Connell’s time in twenty nine we had no braver men
Our comrades fought both day and night to gain our rights again
Still by coercion we were bound our sons were sent to jail
We will not fret Home Rule we’ll get cried poor old Gráinne Mhaol

When I awoke from my slumber excited by the fright
I thought it was the clear daylight but found the darkest night
I looked all ‘round but could not see but the walls of a lonely jail
‘Twas there I took my last fond look at poor old Gráinne Mhaol