Star of the County Down|
(traditional/ Evan Eleven)
Near to Banbridge town in the County Down
one mornin' in July
down a boreen green came a sweet colleen
and she smiled as she passed me by
well, she looked so neat from her two bare feet
to the sheen of her nut-brown hair
such a coaxin' elf, sure i pinched myself
for to see if she was really there
Well, from Bantry Bay up to Derry Quay
and from Galway to Dublin Town
no maid i seen like the sweet colleen
that i met in the County Down
As she onward sped sure i shook my head
and i gazed with a feelin' rare
and i said, says i, to a passerby
"who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
well he smiled at me and he said, says he,
"she's the gem of Ireland's crown-
she's Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann
she's the Star of the County Down"
So, at the harvest fair i was early there
well dressed in my Sunday clothes
with my shoes shone bright and my hat cocked right
and a smile for my nut-brown Rose
yeah no pipe i'd smoke, no horse i'd yoke
tho my plough with rust turn brown
'til a smilin' bride by my own fireside
sat the Star of the County Down
Well, the sun was high in the Irish sky
when at last she did appear
the object of my longin' love-
the maid with the nut-brown hair
with a quick embrace i kissed her face
but she said, "how dare you sir-
take liberties with the likes of me
we haven't met i'm sure"
"But Rosie dear, i've waited here
since i first laid eyes on you
and i had planned to ask your hand-
would you make my dreams come true?"
then she laughed at me and she said, says she
"what a foolish clown!
how could you presume to be my groom?
i could have any man in the County Down"
So, no pipe i've smoked, no horse i've yoked
now twenty years gone by
and my plough turned brown and the rain falls down
and i hang my head and cry
and i waste my days in a drunken haze
'til my sorrow's dead and drowned
and my downfall i owe it all
to the Star of the County Down