Going to Mass Last Sunday

A church in Ballymoney Parish.

This might be my favorite track from Maranna McCloskey‘s album At Last. It’s another lively but cautionary tale, and the arrangement is dead on.   I’ve also seen these same lyrics, with an additional verse at the beginning, as Meeting/Courting is a Pleasure or Lovely Molly.

Going to Mass Last Sunday

Going to Mass Last Sunday, my love she passed me by
I knew her mind was altered by the roving of her eye
I knew her mind was altered to a lad of higher degree
For it’s Molly, lovely Molly, your looks have wounded me.

Oh! Woe unto you Molly, you have proved to me unkind
For you plucked the bonny briar and left the sweet red rose behind
But the briar it will wither, and the day it will come soon
When the lovely blushing red rose will flourish and will bloom.

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Verdant Braes of ‘Screen

The story told in this song is remarkably similar to ‘P’ Stands for Paddy or perhaps the other way round. I simply adore Maranna McCloskey‘s voice and here it’s just perfect. You can find this song on her CD At Last. There is some speculation that the “‘Screen” mention here is Ballinascreen in County Londonderry, Northern Ireland.

Verdant Braes of ‘Screen

As I rode out one evening fair
By the verdant braes of ‘Screen
I set my back to a hawthorn tree
To view the sun in the west country
And the dew on the forest green

A lad I spied by Abhann’s side
And a maiden by his knee
And he was as dark as the very brown wood
And she all whey and wan to see
All whey and wan was she

“Oh, sit you down on the grass,” he said.
“On the dewy grass so green
For the wee birds all have come and gone
Since I my true love have seen
Since I my true love have seen”

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The Home I Left Behind

Maranna McCloskey sings this great emigrant song. You can find it on her solo CD At Last. The air is Rocks O Bawn, a tune to which many traditional Irish songs are set.

The Home I Left Behind

I was born on the hillside by yonder flowing stream
It is deeply pictured in my mind, fond memories, thoughts and dreams
It often nearly breaks my heart and leaves me troubled mind
When I think of dear old Ireland and the home I left behind

It was early next morning with a sad and broken heart
I stood on the hearth of my father’s floor saying, It’s sad we both must part
With my mother’s arms around my neck as the tears her eyes did blind
And I tore out from her arms in the home I left behind

We travelled through old Ireland till we came to Queenstown Quay
Twas there I saw a steamer bound for Americay
Twas there I saw a steamer bound for some foreign clime
And from there I took my last fond look at the home I left behind

But since I’ve landed in New York strange faces I have known
But there’s none so dear or so near to me as the ones I left at home
And when I’ve lots of shining gold and a girl to make my bride
I will roll her in my arms in the home I left behind