Volume: CBÉ 0190

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1. Ballyshannon Lane (continued)

   

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   (continued from previous page)

   the barn is all in flames
   My three uncles fell, I grieve to tell
   They were Martin Tom and James.
   And my poor Aunt Kate stood at the gate
   Herself and her child were slain
   So my teeth I cringed to have revenge
   for Ballyshannon lane.
   VI
   These were the words my poor mother sang
   into my youthful ears
   When for weeks and weeks rolled down her cheeks
   the hot and scalding tears.
   And my brother Mike forged me a pike to take to those hills again, so if Ireland need, I'm here to bleed for Ballyshannon lane

   (continues on next page)

   

   Transcribed by a member of our volunteer transcription project.

   History Edit

   Date

   7 May 1936

   Item type

   Lore

   Writing mode

   Handwritten

   Writing script

   Roman script

   Informant

   • Peadar Ó Murchadha