An irish song....?

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alpha

Could it be the "Old Dungarvin Oak " The chorus is:

Lay down your woollen shawl my love
I swear it is no joke
and Iâ€™ll tell to you the story of
the Old Dungarvin Oak

The full lyrics are at the site below

Conor W

no idea what song ur tlkin bout bt sayin irish are usually drunk is just steryotyping!

nethnee

when I was a young girl I wore a black shawl
now that I am married I will wear none at all
still I love him
I will forgive him
I will go with him whereever he goes

twoforthepriceofone

I can't believe an Irish person just put the emphasis on "Irish" so much in one question...

No folk songs about any shawl come directly to mind, but next time you hear people singing a folk song you want to know the title of, just go up to them and ask them the name. I'm sure they won't bite.

princessaphir

Hi !
could it be....
" The Shawl of Galway Grey" ?
She was young and she was pretty and her heart was bright and gay
And she won him so completely in her shawl of galway grey
In her eyes a love was shining like the moonlight on the bay
But her love was for another neath her shawl of galway grey

When the vesper bells were ringing a smile came to her face
For her fisher boy she waited, no one could ever take his place
In her heart there's still a memory and it's there twill always stay
Of the love he left behind him neath a shawl of galway grey

When the vesper bells were ringing a smile came to her face
For her fisher boy she waited, no one could ever take his place
In her heart there's still a memory and it's there twill always stay
Of the love he left behind him neath a shawl of galway grey

Or perhaps...
"The ould plaid shawl " ?

Not far from old Kinvara, in the merry month of May,
When birds were singing cheerily, there came across my way,
As if from out the sky above an angel chanced to fall,
A little Irish cailÃn in an ould plaid shawl.

She tripped along right joyously, a basket on her arm;
And, O ! her face, and, O ! her grace, the soul of saint would
charm;
Her brown hair rippled o'er her brow, but greatest charm of all
Was her modest blue eyes beaming 'neath her ould plaid shawl.

I courteously saluted her -" God save you, miss, says I;
"God save you. kindly, sir," said she, and shyly passed me by;
Off went my heart along with her, a captive in her thrall,
Imprisoned in the corner of the ould plaid shawl.

Enchanted with her beauty rare, I gazed in pure delight,
Till round an angle of the road she vanished from my sight;
But ever since I sighing say, as I that scene recall,
"The grace of God about you and your ould plaid shawl."

They may talk of highway robbers that, with pistols and with knives,
Make trembling travellers yield them up their money or their lives,
But think of me that handed out my heart and head and all
To a simple little cailÃn in an ould plaid shawl !

O! graceful the mantillas that the signorinas wear,
And tasteful are the bonnets of Parisian ladies fair,
But never cloak, or hood, or robe, in palace, bow'r, or hall
Clad half such witching beauty as that ould plaid shawl.

O! some men sigh for riches, and some men live for fame,
And some on history's pages hope to win a glorious name;
My aims are not ambitious, and my wishes are but small -
You might wrap them all together in an ould plaid shawl.

I'll seek her all through Galway, and I'll seek her all through Clare,
I'll search for tale or tidings of my traveller everywhere,
For peace of mind I'll never find until my own I call
That little Irish cailÃn in an her plaid shawl

Try to google for audio samples.... It might help...
Good luck :-)

Me-o

It wouldn't be The Galway Shawl by any chance?
...

At Orenmore in the County Galway,
One pleasant evening in the month of May,
I spied a damsel, she was young and handsome
Her beauty fairly took my breath away.

Chorus: She wore no jewels, nor costly diamonds,
No paint or powder, no, none at all.
But she wore a bonnet with a ribbon on it
And round her shoulder was a Galway Shawl.

We kept on walking, she kept on talking,
'Till her father's cottage came into view.
Says she: 'Come in, sir, and meet my father,
And play to please him " The Foggy Dew."

She sat me down beside the fire
I could see her father, he was six feet tall.
And soon her mother had the kettle singing
All I could think of was the Galway shawl.

I played "The Blackbird" and "The Stack of Barley",
" Rodney's Glory" and "The Foggy Dew",
She sang each note like an Irish linnet.
Whilst the tears stood in her eyes of blue.

'Twas early, early, all in the morning,
When I hit the road for old Donegal.
She said 'Goodby, sir,'she cried and kissed me,
And my heart remained with that Galway shawl.

Dunno. But I guess you can't dance to it ;-)

bathguide

Could well be ' The Black Velvet Band' ....and her hair hung over her shoulder, tied up with a black velvet band. Recorded by The Dubliners and many others.

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