My/ youthful days are/ past and it/ makes my heart feel/ weary
As I/ sit in the/ cart in the/ wilds of the/ prairie.
/Hunting the/ deer that/ skip around the/ beaver
While my/ thoughts fondly/ stray to the/ Bogs of Shana/heever.
By the/ cold light of the/ moon won't you/ tell them to be/ ready
Won’t you/ tell them to pre/pare and to/ bring on Master/ Freddy.
Won’t you/ tell them to be/ quick and to/ be very/ clever
For it's my/ last day of/ coursing on the/ Bogs of Shana/heever.
From the/ shores of Lough An/na to the/ plains of Kil/bricken.
By the/ light of the red/ moon my poor/ heart it was/ stricken
We made/ straight for Letter/dean, but the/ land it didna’/ favour
So we/ crossed over the/ hills for the/ Bogs Of Shana/heever.
They have/ boasted in/ London of the/ trials of O'/Donnel.
And young/ Willie/ Ayres praised the/ fortunes of Di/ana.
But the/ truth to you I'll/ tell, that Di/ana was the/ favourite,
But/ Victor took the/ sway on the/ Bogs of Shana/heever.
Oh the/ going it was/ rough but/ Bruce he was long/ winded,
And/ fierce now every/ bound, the/ hunting it was/ splendid,
And the/ two-year-old/ dogs were/ lanky keen and/ clever,
But the/ next thing I/ saw was a/ death on Shana/heever.
On the/ day that Victor/ died, my/ coursing days were/ over.
And I/ sat down and/ cried like a/ broken-hearted/ lover.
I put/ Victor in his/ grave and I/ left him there for/ever
And booked a/ passage to New/ York from the/ Bogs of Shana/heever.
So it's/ fare-you-well Ire/land, and/ fare-you-well for/ever.
There is/ nowhere in the/ world I will/ look on with such/ favour.
And if/ ever I re/turn I'll come/ back again and/ see her
And I'll/ bid a last fare/well to the/ Bogs of Shana/heever.
DOWNLOAD NWC file (score with 1st two verses)
JH: The Two Greyhounds. One of the greyhound's name was Bruce. I often meant to sing that in Dublin, saying you couldn't blame them for calling Bruce one of them. Well, these two fellows, they lived in Shanaheever which is outside Clifden. It's a long time ago, and they had two greyhounds, but they had no land of their own and the only way they could course the greyhounds was to go to the landlord's place at night under the light of the moon. And course the two greyhounds. And they got so fond of the greyhounds that when one of the greyhounds died, the lad who owned it, Bruce was the name of one of them and Toby was the name of the other, that he went away to America and he composed the song there, telling about the bogs of Shanaheever.
EM: You mean he was so broken hearted?
JH: So broken hearted that he left and emigrated. Andy and Norah (?) was the name of the landlord, you see and in their absence they used to take out the two greyhounds and course them on this big domain. But he was so broken hearted when the greyhound died that he went to America.
The Two Greyhounds (The Bogs of Shanaheever) (Roud 5335)
My youth is long past and I am mighty dreary.
An exile I am cast on the wilds of the prairie.
I'm hunting the wild deer, the panther and
the beaver.
But I look back with pride on the bogs of
Shanaheever.
Andy and Norah (?) in their absence do get
ready. 45
By the light of the moon go and tell Master
Freddie.
Oh tell him to prepare and to be mighty clever.
For it is the last night of hunting on the
bogs of Shanaheever.
Now coursed was Toby and Bruce was long-winded.
Coursed every round, the two-year-old was
splendid.
This two year old hound he was knacky (skilful)
and clever.
But the next I heard there was a death on
the bogs of Shanaheever.
From the shores of Lough Annagh to the plains
of Kilbrickan,
By the light of the moon, my poor heart was
a-tickin’.
We took Bruce to his grave and we laid him
down forever.
Then I sat down and cried like a broken hearted
lover.
And I ta'en my passage to New York from the
bogs of Shanaheever.
Now Ireland my land, fare thee well now and
forever.
There is no land on earth that I love with
such great fervour.
If ever she's free, I'll go back again and
see her.
And I'll settle down forever on the bogs of
Shanaheever.
EM: How old do you think a song like that would be, Joe?
JH: I haven't a clue how old that but I was told it was handed down,
so I couldn't tell you. That's the only thing I can tell you about
that song. I haven't a clue.
PS: Where did you learn it?
JH: At home
(Break)
EM: … or do you think they were composed in Ireland?
JH: There were a lot of these songs composed in America see and taken
back by people who were there and came back.
EM: Would they go back to a place like, like …
JH: Oh, they do, most of them come back in their old age, you know.
EM: They come back to die, do they?
JH: They come back to die there, that's more or less the case.
EM: Like the West coast of Scotland.
JH: They do, oh they do. An awful lot of them come back.
EM: And they bring a song like this back with them, do you think?
JH: They do. That's my belief, they do.
PS: Did you know any people in Carna that did come back?
JH: I did indeed. Plenty of them. They're coming back every
day.
EM: Exactly the same on the West coast of Scotland, Peg.
JH: They do come back.
EM: They go, they maybe work all their lives in Canada or …
JH: They work forty or forty five years and then come back and live
their old days at home.
EM: It's the same in Italy too, you know, or any poor country.