A great song, written from the point of view of the hare!
This is Dick Gaughan's version, more or less, from the LP "Kist O'Gold". It should be quite close to Cathy Jordan's version:
GRANEMORE HARE
The Saturday morning, the horns they did blow
To the green hills 'round Tassagh the huntsmen do go
To meet the bold sportsmen from around Keady town
For none loved the sport better than the boys from May Down
And when we arrived they were all standing there
So we took to the green fields to search for the hare
We had not gone far when someone gave a cheer
Over high hills and valleys the puss, she did steer
With our dogs all abreast and that big mountain hare
And the sweet sounding music, it rang through the air
Straight for the black bank for to try them once more
And it was her last sight 'round the hills of Granemore
And as they trailed on to where the puss, she did lie
She sprang to her feet for to bid them goodbye
Their music, it ceased; and her cry we could hear
Saying, Cursed be the ones brought you May Down dogs here
Last night as I lay content in the glen
It was little I thought about dogs or of men
But when going home at the clear light of day
I could hear the long dogs at [ Young Tornerdon bay ]**
And it being so early I stopped for a while
It was little I thought they were going to meet Coyle
If I had known that I'd have lain near the town
Or tried to get clear 'round those dogs from May Down
And now I am dying, the sport is all done
No more through the green fields 'round Keady I run
Nor feed in the glen on the cold winter's night
Or go home to my den when it's breaking daylight
And my curse on MacMahon for bringing Coyle here
He's been at his old capers for many's the year
From Friday to Sunday, he'll never give o'er
With a pack of strange dogs 'round the hills of Granemore
On a fine summer's morning our horns they did blow,
To the green fields round Tassagh our huntsmen did go,
For to meet the bold sportsman from round Keady town,
None loved that sport better than the boys from Maydown.
And when we arrived they were all standing there,
So we took to the green field in search of the hare.
We did not go far when someone gave cheer,
Over hills and high meadows the prey did appear.
When she got to the heather she tried them to shun
But our dogs never missed one inch where she'd run.
They kept well packed when going over the hill,
For the hounds had set out this sweet hare for to kill.
With our dogs all abreast and the big mountain hare,
And the sweet charming music it rang through the air,
Straight for the black bank for to try them once more,
But it was her last sight round the Hills of Greanmore.
And as we trailed on to where the hare she did lie,
She sprang to her feet for to bid them goodbye.
Their music it ceased, and her cry we could hear,
Saying bad luck to the ones brought ye Maydown dogs here.
Last night as I lay quite content in the glen,
It was little I thought of the dogs or the men,
But when going home at the clear break of day,
I could hear the loud horn young Toner did play.
And now that I'm dying me sport it is done,
No more through the green fields of Keady I'll run,
Nor feed in the glen on a cold winter's night,
Or go home to my den when it's breaking daylight.
I blame old McMahon for bringing Coyle here,
He's been at the same caper for many's the year.
Every Saturday and Sunday, he never give o'er,
With a pack of strange dogs round the Hills of Greanmore.
Hills Of Greanmore lyrics
Hills Of Greanmore lyrics
Hi, I was wondering if anyone has the lyrics to The Hills Of Greanmore. Dervish sing it on their CD Live in Palma. Thanks.
# Posted on March 18th 2005 by Trad Girl
Re: Hills Of Greanmore lyrics
A great song, written from the point of view of the hare!
This is Dick Gaughan's version, more or less, from the LP "Kist O'Gold". It should be quite close to Cathy Jordan's version:
GRANEMORE HARE
The Saturday morning, the horns they did blow
To the green hills 'round Tassagh the huntsmen do go
To meet the bold sportsmen from around Keady town
For none loved the sport better than the boys from May Down
And when we arrived they were all standing there
So we took to the green fields to search for the hare
We had not gone far when someone gave a cheer
Over high hills and valleys the puss, she did steer
With our dogs all abreast and that big mountain hare
And the sweet sounding music, it rang through the air
Straight for the black bank for to try them once more
And it was her last sight 'round the hills of Granemore
And as they trailed on to where the puss, she did lie
She sprang to her feet for to bid them goodbye
Their music, it ceased; and her cry we could hear
Saying, Cursed be the ones brought you May Down dogs here
Last night as I lay content in the glen
It was little I thought about dogs or of men
But when going home at the clear light of day
I could hear the long dogs at [ Young Tornerdon bay ]**
And it being so early I stopped for a while
It was little I thought they were going to meet Coyle
If I had known that I'd have lain near the town
Or tried to get clear 'round those dogs from May Down
And now I am dying, the sport is all done
No more through the green fields 'round Keady I run
Nor feed in the glen on the cold winter's night
Or go home to my den when it's breaking daylight
And my curse on MacMahon for bringing Coyle here
He's been at his old capers for many's the year
From Friday to Sunday, he'll never give o'er
With a pack of strange dogs 'round the hills of Granemore
** - I don't think this is correct.
# Posted on March 18th 2005 by Kenny
Re: Hills Of Greanmore lyrics
This is Cathy Jordan's version:
On a fine summer's morning our horns they did blow,
To the green fields round Tassagh our huntsmen did go,
For to meet the bold sportsman from round Keady town,
None loved that sport better than the boys from Maydown.
And when we arrived they were all standing there,
So we took to the green field in search of the hare.
We did not go far when someone gave cheer,
Over hills and high meadows the prey did appear.
When she got to the heather she tried them to shun
But our dogs never missed one inch where she'd run.
They kept well packed when going over the hill,
For the hounds had set out this sweet hare for to kill.
With our dogs all abreast and the big mountain hare,
And the sweet charming music it rang through the air,
Straight for the black bank for to try them once more,
But it was her last sight round the Hills of Greanmore.
And as we trailed on to where the hare she did lie,
She sprang to her feet for to bid them goodbye.
Their music it ceased, and her cry we could hear,
Saying bad luck to the ones brought ye Maydown dogs here.
Last night as I lay quite content in the glen,
It was little I thought of the dogs or the men,
But when going home at the clear break of day,
I could hear the loud horn young Toner did play.
And now that I'm dying me sport it is done,
No more through the green fields of Keady I'll run,
Nor feed in the glen on a cold winter's night,
Or go home to my den when it's breaking daylight.
I blame old McMahon for bringing Coyle here,
He's been at the same caper for many's the year.
Every Saturday and Sunday, he never give o'er,
With a pack of strange dogs round the Hills of Greanmore.
# Posted on March 20th 2005 by Concertina Player