The winter it has passed
And the summer's come at last
The small birds are singing in the trees
And their little hearts are glad
Ah, but mine is very sad
Since my true love is far away from me
And straight I will repair
To the Curragh of Kildare
For it's there I'll finds tidings of my dear
The rose upon the briar
By the water's running clear
Brings joy to the linnet and the bee
And their little hearts are blessed
But mine can know no rest
Since my true love is far away from me
A livery I'll wear
And I'll comb back my hair
And in velvet so green I will appear
And straight I will repair
To the Curragh of Kildare
For its there I'll find tidings of my dear
All you who are in love
Aye and cannot it remove
I pity the pain that you endure
For experience lets me know
That your hearts are filled with woe
It's a woe that no mortal can cure
CHRISTY'S COMMENT
I gleaned this song from The P.W. Joyce collection in 1964.Donal Lunny and I arranged this song into its present shape.The original was written by Scotlands poet laureate Robbie Burns.It tells the story of a young Scottish woman whose lover is away soldiering for the Queen in the Curragh of Kildare.She decides to present herself for recruitment disguised as a young fellow.We never get to hear the outcome.Certainly a good case for a sequel.
And the summer's come at last
The small birds are singing in the trees
And their little hearts are glad
Ah, but mine is very sad
Since my true love is far away from me
And straight I will repair
To the Curragh of Kildare
For it's there I'll finds tidings of my dear
The rose upon the briar
By the water's running clear
Brings joy to the linnet and the bee
And their little hearts are blessed
But mine can know no rest
Since my true love is far away from me
A livery I'll wear
And I'll comb back my hair
And in velvet so green I will appear
And straight I will repair
To the Curragh of Kildare
For its there I'll find tidings of my dear
All you who are in love
Aye and cannot it remove
I pity the pain that you endure
For experience lets me know
That your hearts are filled with woe
It's a woe that no mortal can cure
CHRISTY'S COMMENT
I gleaned this song from The P.W. Joyce collection in 1964.Donal Lunny and I arranged this song into its present shape.The original was written by Scotlands poet laureate Robbie Burns.It tells the story of a young Scottish woman whose lover is away soldiering for the Queen in the Curragh of Kildare.She decides to present herself for recruitment disguised as a young fellow.We never get to hear the outcome.Certainly a good case for a sequel.