4 10 322 Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource New Songs written to old Celtic Melodies Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Earl Grey's Girls Author: Martin Power Melody: The Homes of Donegal Subject The topic of the resource The sky was grey that morning o'er the town of Corofin For twenty orphan Irish girls a journey did begin: From the workhouse they were taken upon a horse-drawn car, The first leg of a journey to the port of Hobart. For some the journey was to change their lives for evermore And free them from the workhouse and the hardships they endured; But, alas for some of these a different story tell; For them this journey it became another living hell. They sailed away from Ireland upon that July morn And none would ever see again the place where they were born, On board the ship Calcutta with one hundred other souls Down south to Van Diemen's Land that's where their story goes. The journey started with a gift of a strong box made of wood With their name engraved upon the lid to store their earthly goods, Each girl was given six new shifts, two petticoats and two gowns, Two pairs of shoes and stockings, and a lock to keep them sound. The voyage there took four long months through storms and heavy swells, The girls were sick and frightened but all arrived quite well; What lay ahead for these young girls was very carefully planned For Lord Grey had chosen these young girls to populate the land. They were taken to the workhouse when they landed at the pier But the locals did not want the girls, at the Irish they did sneer, They thought the girls inferior and the cause of much disdain And tried to force the authorities to send them back again. But the girls were there and there to stay and work was found for most, But for a few of these young girls, they would pay a terrible cost: They were married off to farmers and convicts at a price And they used the girls and abused the girls and sold them into vice. Now what became of these twenty girls the history books don't say But they tell us that four thousand girls were shipped abroad this way; They left behind no loved ones dear to ponder on their fate, Taken from their homeland to populate a state. This stain upon our history can not be left untold And their names must be recorded on a page of history's scroll For Ireland must remember these poor young orphan girls, Shipped out to foreign colonies on the orders of an earl. Description An account of the resource The song narrates the horrible story of one aspect of the heartless colonial system, where helpless orphans were abused and seen as breeding animals at the behest of the aristocracy. Emigration Liberty Social Comment Social Event Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource New Songs written to old Celtic Melodies Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Ireland's Foreign Sons Author: Martin Power Melody: The Boys of Kilmichael Subject The topic of the resource We have sang of the praise of Connolly and of Pearse and Plunket so true But I'll sing you a song of two foreign young men who fought just as brave and as true. Their deeds were as gallant as any a man that fought through those terrible days When Ireland's sons and daughters lit the flame to freedom's way. It was down nat the Dublin GPO on that Easter Monday morn, Liam Tannam and several volunteers were shoring up for the storm; They were building up the barricades for the fight. that surely would come When two foreign seamen arrived at the door saying 'We'll fight with Ireland's sons'. Now, one young man was from Sweden, the other young man was a Finn And they landed in Dublin that morning as the battle was about to begin; They thought that they'd fight for Ireland's cause and help set our country free And rid the Irish people of British tyranny. CHORUS So here's to the men, the foreign young men, that gallant young Swede and the Finn; They gave up a life on the ocean to fight beside Ireland's brave men. They welcomed in the sailor lads and Tannam gave each man a gun; The Swede, he gave him a rifle, the Finn got a double-barrel gun; Makapaltis was the young Finn's name and he'd never fired a shot, He dropped the gun accidentally and Jim Kenny was shot in the foot. Well, Plunket, he nearly lost his mind and ordered him back to the rear To help pack cans with explosives and build up the barricades there; But the Finn and the Swede they would proved their worth when the fighting did finally begin And won the admiration of Ireland's great fighting men. CHORUS For five long days they fought the fight and stood shoulder to shoulder as one And not one step back did either man take before the Saxon guns And when the order it finally did come and surrender it would be, They marched side by side with Irishmen and into captivity. In Kilmainham Gaol they both were interred to wait upon their fate And the Swedish consul, it intervened and cut their man a break, But no one ever came looking for the gallant young fighting Finn So with Ireland's sons he sailed away and into internment. When the Roll of Honour is written for all the gallant young men That fought that time for Ireland's cause let's not forget theFinn Or the gallant young Swede that took up arms and gave of them their all, Who stood when Ireland needed men and answered to Her call. CHORUS Description An account of the resource The song is one of those gems of the Oral Tradition that narrates in ballad form an actual event that is generally missed in the larger historical picture. Liberty Patriotic Hero Social Event Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Traditional Songs, poems, and stories Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Bombardier 37063 Author: Martin Power Subject The topic of the resource A warm, gentle breeze bends the bearded stalks of the barley That line the walkway to the cemetery, Inside the dry stone wall with its granite stone capping Yew trees stand among the headstones; Inscribed on those headstones are family names That have been spoken here for generations While others , their inscriptions have been lost to the ages; In the southwest corner stands a small, white headstone, Its inscription reads 37063 Bombardier P Nolan Royal Garrison Artillery 30th July 1917 Aged 30 RIP As I gaze upon that headstone, one hundred years to the day, I can't but wonder how he died or where he fell; Did he die upon the battlefield? Did he fall in no-mans-land? Was he killed alongside his comrades fighting for a cause they did not understand/ I wonder what brought him there, was he seeking glory or adventure? Or, was it poverty that caused him to join up to fight in a war to end all wars? That night we prayed for all poor souls, and the priest he blessed the graves, And we walked back through the barley field and went upon our way. But curiosity is a funny thing and it got hold of me that night For I could not forget the soldier lad till I learned of his sad plight. It wasn't bomb or bullet, or bayonet that brought him to his knees, But the deadly fear of fighting men, that incurable disease, The dreadful tuberculosis was the cause of his demise; It was the terror of the trenches for it took so many lives. 'Discharged, unfit for service' is what the army said, they sent him home to Ireland, his own war to fight instead. This was not a glorious battle, there was no medal to be won, But rather a slow and painful fight was to be his setting sun And in the Carlow workhouse on that beautiful July morn He gave his soul to God above, his battle bravely won. Description An account of the resource The reflection could be applied to thousands of wasted lives, in thousands of wars. In this case the 'casualty' was a young local man, another victim of wars made by others. The grave is situated in Leagh cemetery, not far from Graigue, Carlow. Carlow County Local Hero Social Comment Social Event Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Traditional Songs, poems, and stories Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Those Fields Author: Martin Power Subject The topic of the resource Where I live now was once a field, Three fields away from where I grew up, And those fields to myself and my childhood friends Held a world of adventure for us. Those fields would be planted with barley, With beet , and turnips and hay, And it's there we played and we hunted And spent many a memorable day. We'd search the hedges for birds' nests, Make camps out hay and of straw, And we'd forage in Autumn for berries, Crabapples, for nuts and the sloe. With our faithful dogs we'd go ratting In the beet fields and hedges all day, And still to this day with fondness I recall The dogs from my childhood days. We'd set snares in the evenings for rabbits, In the mornings we'd go check our lines, And in the winter we'd go trapping finches With our calling bird, cage and our lime. In those fields we learned about Nature, We grew up with respect for the land; They were such a big part of our life back then As I grew from boy into man. Now, those fields are planted with houses, With garages, hotels and with stores; There's a road running right through the middle On which cars and lorries now roll. That life has changed is unquestioned And I'm not sure that's good or it's bad, But, given the choice to grow up now or then, I'd rather the childhood I had. Description An account of the resource The poem is a nostalgic memory of childhood activity in land now urbanised and modernised. Carlow West Social Comment Social Event Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Traditional Songs, poems, and stories Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Untold Joys Author: Martin Power Subject The topic of the resource To drink once more from Sleaty pump That cool, clear water of an August day And walk the road with childhood friends Past Sleaty church to Knockbeg weir And spend a carefree day again Without the weight of worldly woes And live again those happy days When youthful ways were to the fore Or to swing a club for eighteen holes In St. Fiacc's pitch and putt Upon a warm summer's day And smell the grass so freshly cut Or cast a rod at Webster's Lock And wait to see the rod tip twitch And hear the bell of St. Clare's church Ring out the angelus at six. To hear once more my mother's voice Say 'Well, how are you son?' Or Sunday drives in my father's car And hear him sing his songs, To watch my grandfather large as life From a saucer sup his tea Or gather in the family home And pray the Rosary on our knees. But these are childhood memories And precious though they be Are left back on the tracks of time And never more can be. But the train of life keeps rolling on And new people have come on board And creating memories now with them Brings joys that are untold. Description An account of the resource The poem is a collection of snapshots from times past, places and people now gone; but, we must continue to make new memories for ourselves and our loved ones. Carlow West Social Comment Social Event Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource New Songs written to old Celtic Melodies Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Polishing Author: Martin Power Melody: The Garden Where the Praties Grow. Subject The topic of the resource Two sheets of old newspaper he would lay upon the floor, Then all the shoes he'd gather from the corner by the door And out would come the biscuit tin from underneath the sink, With the radio on and in his chair, the ritual would begin. He would first take out the laces and check the shoes for wear, He'd check the soles for any cracks, and the stitching for a tear, Then he'd tuck the laces inside the shoe for fear they get mixed up And he'd place them down from left to right, from the smallest right on up. He would pop the lid from the biscuit tin, take the contents from within, He would spread them out beside him in order to begin; A welt brush and a soft brush, some cloths for wiping down, Two tins of KIWI polish, one of black and one of brown. He might turn up the radio to hear the evening news And, starting with the smallest, he'd begin the clean the shoes; A good, stiff rub with welt brush to remove the dirt and dust And, if you want the polish to take, this process is a must. Then he'd wrap two fingers in a cloth and wipe some polish from the tin And round and round all o'er the shoe he'd rub the polish in, Making sure he got the polish deep inside the pores, Then he'd place them down for half an hour to dry upon the floor. Now, when they dried he'd take them and wipe the shoes again To remove the excess polish before the buffing could begin; He would always use a horsehair brush for bringing up the shine As back and forth he'd strike the shoe like a pendulum keeping time. And when the shoes were shining and all had been relaced He would sit back in the armchair with a smile upon his face, And then he'd say 'if the great flood comes and the Lord decrees we die At least when we get to Heaven our feet, they will be dry'. Description An account of the resource The Saturday night ritual of shoe polishing is described in detail in this memory of a family weekly event. Carlow County Social Comment Social Event Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource New Songs written to old Celtic Melodies Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Stones Keep Turning Author: Martin Power Melody: Biddy Mulligan Subject The topic of the resource The stones have turned in the rivers and streams and Patrick's Day now it has passed, The tinker has loaded his pots and his pans and his donkey he's yolked to his cart; He'll turn to the road with his family in tow in search of some work to be found And he'll wander the country to markets and they'll pitch their old tent on the ground. The sweep too has gathered the tools of his trade and bundled them into his pack, His brushes, his rods, his scrapers and cloths, and he carries them all on his back. He knows all the homes and the chimneys he'll sweep and the people all know him by name, For his father and his grandfather swept the same pots when he was but a wain. CHORUS So here's to men, those travelling people of old that help keep our culture alive, They carried our music, our songs and our tales and spread them the whole country wide. There were labouring men who travelled the road to work on the farms of the day, They helped milk the cows, they fixed harness and plough and worked in the fields saving hay; They gathered in turf for the long winter nights, brought stock to be sold at the fair And often they worked for the food that they ate and the price of a drink at the fair. They were fiddlers and poets and singers to boot and those who a story could tell, They brightened the lives in the homes where they played and brought news to the people as well. Their songs told the stories of legends of old, of heroes from Ireland, long passed, And without them our songs and music for sure would be lost in the far distant past. Oh, these were the travelling people of old that wandered the roads far and wide, They carried and shared our pure Gaelic ways and helped keep our culture alive. Their ways now are gone like the druids of old and progress has stolen their trades But we owe a great debt for the legacy left and our culture that still lives today. CHORUS Description An account of the resource The text, to the melody of Biddy Mulligan, is a nostalgic trip down memory lane to the people and ways of the past, and, to cultural practices now gone. Carlow County Social Comment Social Event Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Traditional Songs, poems, and stories Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource The Maple's Limb Author: Martin Power Subject The topic of the resource A small cup of moss and lichen, Tucked away on a maple's limb, And five white eggs with speckles brown Are laying warm and safe within. And on that cup of moss and lichen Sits a goldfinch with colours bright, Keeping warm and ever protecting Her eggs of speckled brown and white. And why she chose to build her nest there Out on the maple's limb, For all around are children playing, Running, jumping, causing din. The maple grows within the schoolyard, It's not the safest place to be And I hope they haven't noticed That goldfinch nest up in the tree. For surely if they spot her sitting Up among the maple's limbs, Curiosity itself will cause them To climb up there and search within. And for a moment, tiny goldfinch, Your little secret's safe, it seems, But soon that nest will house a family Up there amongst the maple's limbs. Description An account of the resource The poem is a snapshot in time, noticing the small nest in a less than secure setting. Carlow County Nature Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Traditional Songs, poems, and stories Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. Fiacc of Sleaty Author: Martin Power Subject The topic of the resource A bishop blessed by Patrick Apostle of Our Lord, You built your church amongst us And brought to us God's Word. In your penitent cave you knelt and prayed For forty days and nights That God would help us leave behind Our ancient pagan ways. With your brothers you preached the Gospel And spoke of God's great love, And how He gave His only son Who bled and died for us. You lit in us a Pascal flame That burns within our hearts; It's the Risen Christ, He guides us And keeps us on the Path. And still today we gather Beside that ancient cross And pray for those that have gone before Who carried on your work, And kept alight that Pascal flame You lit so long ago When you spread the seed of God's great love And nourished it to grow. That little church that you had built No longer stands today, But the message that you brought us Still lights and guides our way. O holy saint Fiacc of Sleaty Enthroned on high above We pray, and bless and thank you For bringing us God's love. Description An account of the resource The poem is a prayer to St. Fiacc who is remembered reverently as the bringer of Christianity to the Sleaty and Graigue region. Carlow West Religion Social Comment Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource Traditional Songs, poems, and stories Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource St. Brigid's Day Author: Martin Power Subject The topic of the resource You've spread your cloak upon the earth And brought about rebirth. Now from beneath the frosted soil The snowdrop peeps its head, The linnet and the lark announce Your arrival with their song And tell us all that winter's over: Here comes the springtime sun. And snug within its winter nest The hedgehog starts to stir; It feels the heat of that springtime sun Warming up the earth. The woodland and the hedgerow The daffodils now dress As Nature fills the poet's pen With endless word and verse. The robin who has sung alone Throughout the winter months Is perched upon the garden wall And sings a different song. The others know of what he sings For they too are so inclined To seek a kindred heart as theirs With whom to share their time. You've brought with you a promise And a hope of better times, It's there amongst the budding trees And in the poet's lines, It's with the farmers in their fields And without across our land Upon the springtime breeze. Description An account of the resource The poem carries on the ancient Celtic festival of imbolg, marking the rebirth of the year. Before the Church imposed the feast of St. Brigid the imbolg festival marked the rebirth of nature, under the mantle of the goddess Brigid, of Danú. County Carlow Nature Religion Social Comment