Posted by Tiger on March 21, 2004, 11:30 am, in reply to "lyrics" Oh, I know a wee spot, tis a place of great fame, Now I courted a wee girl, her age was nineteen. By those banks I have roamed, in the dear days gone by, But now cruel misfortune drove me from my home. Oh, mind when I left her, for to cross oer the sea, I was young, I was wild, like the rest of the boys. I was fearing that another had a place in her heart, For my true love was buxom, and a fine girl to see. But a wee bird came flying from over the sea, Now, when I make a fortune, then to home I will go, (Far away from Lovely Derry on the banks of the Foyle.)
Glad to help.
Written by J. J. McCready
And it lies to the North, now Ill tell you its name.
Tis my own little birthplace, and its on Irish soil,
Sure, they call it lovely Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
She was the fairest colleen that ever youve seen,
For her cheeks were like roses and her hair waved in coil,
And she came from lovely Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
With my dear girl I strolled, not a tear, not a sigh.
Her fair charms without equal, from the Nore to the Moyle,
Oh, sweet maid from lovely Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
Twas my fate in deep sorrow to sail oer the foam,
And now from dark strangers, in grief I recoil,
While I pine from dear old Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
For to try and make a fortune, for Mary and me,
How I cried when I left her, but my tears fell in toil,
Far away from dear old Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
I had not many sorrows nor yet many joys.
I worked hard for a living, all day I did toil,
Far away from dear old Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
And that from me my darling forever would part,
That no more she would brighten with her sweet sunny smile,
My dear home in lovely Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
That she won my affection, all my friends did agree,
And I long for to wed her, on our own native soil,
Though Im far from dear old Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
And he brought me a letter from my true love to see,
Saying Come home, my darling, to your native soil,
And Ill wed you in lovely Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
To the dear land of my boyhood, to the sweet girl I know.
I will build her a mansion, and no more need we toil,
Far away from lovely Derry on the banks of the Foyle.
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