Mountains of Mourne Song lyrics: an old favourite

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Mountains of Mourne Song:

Loved by many, and a signature song to the Mountains in County Down, Northern Ireland, the mountains of Mourne song is a classic. Here are the lyrics of French Perry’s song:

Oh, Mary, this London’s a wonderful sight,

With people all working by day and by night.

Sure they don’t sow potatoes, nor barley, nor wheat,

But there’s gangs of them digging for gold in the street.

At least when I asked them that’s what I was told,

So I just took a hand at this digging for gold,

But for all that I found there I might as well be

Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I believe that when writing a wish you expressed

As to know how the fine ladies in London were dressed,

Well if you’ll believe me, when asked to a ball,

They don’t wear no top to their dresses at all,

Oh I’ve seen them meself and you could not in truth,

Say that if they were bound for a ball or a bath.

Don’t be starting such fashions, now, Mary mo chroi,

Where the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I’ve seen England’s king from the top of a bus

And I’ve never known him, but he means to know us.

And tho’ by the Saxon we once were oppressed,

Still I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest.

And now that he’s visited Erin’s green shore

We’ll be much better friends than we’ve been heretofore

When we’ve got all we want, we’re as quiet as can be

Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

You remember young Peter O’Loughlin, of course,

Well, now he is here at the head of the force.

I met him today, I was crossing the Strand,

And he stopped the whole street with a wave of his hand.

And there we stood talkin’ of days that are gone,

While the whole population of London looked on.

But for all these great powers he’s wishful like me,

To be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.

There’s beautiful girls here, oh never you mind,

With beautiful shapes nature never designed,

And lovely complexions all roses and cream,

But let me remark with regard to the same:

That if of those roses you venture to sip,

The colours might all come away on your lip,

So I’ll wait for the wild rose that’s waiting for me

In the place where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.

Read more about the places you can visit in the Mountains of Mourne!

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About the author

Originally from Scotland, Colin now resides near the beautiful seaside town of Portstewart on the Causeway Coastal Route. By day he works in IT and by day off he spends much of his time travelling around the Island with his young family, writing about his experiences for many sites both locally and nationally.