I am from Fermanagh. This is a much loved Ulster song and I remember Geordie Hannah sing it, also it reminds me of my mother a fine traditional singer from Boho who had a huge repertoire of songs from the neighbouring counties. Well done, how beautiful to see young people have such respect for the traditions of our music, which is loved and admired the world over. Eileen
Learning this song on the tenor banjo.Didnt know the song so decided too get it on youtube,found this version absolutely brilliant version,love it.Great singing and playing,dont think i ll ever get this good.👍keep er lit Niall
Shona Sharkey true! the apple don't fall far from the tree Geordie Hanna was a big ,big influence on the singers all over the planet wherever our songs are heard.
Now I read the description I see that. How lucky indeed. That must have been something very special. I hadn't heard it before. I'm just reminiscing about childhood farm holidays with relatives in Tyrone when I was under 12 (now 66 -ouch!). Nearest church was Galbally. Great to see and hear this gem.
These are the words as Niall sing them. Seamus Begley also sings this song with slight variations in words and he sings the refrain after many verses whereas Niall only sings it at the end. What a lovely song, lovely story to be sung forever. I love this song. The Mountains Of Pomeroy Dr. G. Sigerson The morn was breaking bright and fair, The lark sang in the sky, When the maid she bound her goIden hair, With a blithe glance in her eye; For, who beyond the gay green-wood, Was a-waiting her with joy, Oh, who but her gallant Renardine, On the mountains of Pomeroy. Full oft, full oft in the dawning hour, Full oft in twilight brown He met the maid in the woodland bow'r, Where the stream comes foaming down For they were faithful in a love No wars could e'er destroy. No tyrant's chains touched Renardine, On the mountains of Pomeroy. "Dear love, " she said, "l'm sore afraid, For the foeman's force and you They've tracked you in the lowland plain And all the valleys through. My kinsmen frown when you are named Your life they would destroy 'Beware,' they say, 'of Renardine, On the mountains of Pomeroy." "Fear not, fear not, sweetheart," he cried, "Fear not the foe for me No chain shall fall, whate'er betide, On the arm that would be free! So leave your cruel kind and come, When the lark is in the sky. And it's with my life I'll guard you, On the mountains of Pomeroy." The morn has broke, she rose and fled From her cruel kin and kind; And full of love she eased down the glen. And off the mountainside. But the mist came down and the tempest roared, And did all around destroy; And a pale, drowned bride met Renardine, On the mountains of Pomeroy. An outlawed man in a land forlorn, He scorned to turn and fly, But kept the cause of freedom safe On the mountains of Pomeroy
Absolutely beautiful! My grandmother recently passed. She descended from the Malone Clan of Pomeroy and was so proud of her Irish heritage. Words cannot express the emotions your rendition brought up in me upon hearing it. Well done. Thank you for sharing!
The lyrics as he sings them; The morn was breaking bright and fair, The lark sang in the sky, Wheb the maid she bound her goIden hair, With a blithe glance in her eye; For, who beyond the gay green-wood, Was a-waiting her with joy, Oh, who but her gallant Renardine, On the mountains of Pomeroy. An outlawed man in a land forlorn, He scorned to turn and fly, But kept the cause of freedom safe Up on the mountains high. Full often in the dawning hour, Full oft in twilight brown He met the maid in the woodland bow'r, Where the stream comes foaming down For they were faithful in a love No wars could e'er destroy. No tyrant's law touched Renardine, On the mountains of Pomeroy. "Dear love, " she said, "l'm sore afraid, For the foeman's force and you They've tracked you in the lowland plain And all the valley through. My kinsmen frown when you are named Your life they would destroy 'Beware,' they say, 'of Renardine, On the mountains of Pomeroy." "Fear not, fear not, sweetheart," he cried, "Fear not the foe for me No chain shall fall, whate'er betide, On the arm that would be free! Oh, leave your cruel kin and come, When the lark is in the sky. And it's with my gun I'll guard you, On the mountains of Pomeroy." The morn has come, she rose and fled From her cruel kin and home; And bright the wood, and rosy red, And the dumbling torrent's foam. But the mist came down and the tempest roared, And did all around destroy; And a pale, drowned bride met Renardine, On the mountains of Pomeroy.
Renardine was not the hero's surname. It would have been an insulting word (with many different spellings) used by English colonisers to describe an Irish rebel. To the Irish a renardine would be a hero - thus "he kept the cause of freedom high*, on the mountains of Pomeroy". *High was in the version my father sang.
Yes, in the context of the Irish ballad, The Mountains of Pomeroy (particularly loved in the 6 counties), Renardine is the word for an Irish rebel - "an outlawed man in a land forlorn". The song ends in tragedy with the "maiden" waiting to elope with her Renardine at their trysting place - "in the woodland bower where the stream comes rushing down". As she waits "the mist came down and the tempest roared and and did all around destroy" - the stream bursts its banks and the maid drowns. I hope you learn the lyrics and will sing The Mountains of Pomeroy.
@@bealfeirsteabu Regarding "Rebar dove", I regret to say I am not familiar with the term. I imagine the "dove" part is an anglicisation of the Gaelic word "dubh" which means black or dark.
Beautiful
I am from Fermanagh. This is a much loved Ulster song and I remember Geordie Hannah sing it, also it reminds me of my mother a fine traditional singer from Boho who had a huge repertoire of songs from the neighbouring counties.
Well done, how beautiful to see young people have such respect for the traditions of our music, which is loved and admired the world over.
Eileen
I hope her store of songs has been preserved.
Geordie Hannah was a great Sean Os Singer, good to see his grandson following his tradition.☺☺☺☺☺
Beautiful...x
Great Playing ,beautiful tune ,love the guitar sound ,,
gorgeous. a great pal of mine from Roscommon sings this song. i love it and this beautiful version too, thanks.
Learning this song on the tenor banjo.Didnt know the song so decided too get it on youtube,found this version absolutely brilliant version,love it.Great singing and playing,dont think i ll ever get this good.👍keep er lit Niall
Lovely song and a beautiful singer ,,
Galway listener
Brilliant niall and the girls of course
such a magnificent singer so humble and yet so confident.You do your granddad's memory so proud xx
We were very fortunate to have Niall, Rachel and Bernadette at Kathryn's house concert here in Melbourne, Australia
Shona Sharkey true! the apple don't fall far from the tree Geordie Hanna was a big ,big influence on the singers all over the planet wherever our songs are heard.
Now I read the description I see that. How lucky indeed. That must have been something very special. I hadn't heard it before. I'm just reminiscing about childhood farm holidays with relatives in Tyrone when I was under 12 (now 66 -ouch!). Nearest church was Galbally. Great to see and hear this gem.
Beautiful song,and wonderfully delivered.
Brilliant Niall. 1st time I've commented on youtube.
These are the words as Niall sing them. Seamus Begley also sings this song with slight variations in words and he sings the refrain after many verses whereas Niall only sings it at the end.
What a lovely song, lovely story to be sung forever. I love this song.
The Mountains Of Pomeroy
Dr. G. Sigerson
The morn was breaking bright and fair,
The lark sang in the sky,
When the maid she bound her goIden hair,
With a blithe glance in her eye;
For, who beyond the gay green-wood,
Was a-waiting her with joy,
Oh, who but her gallant Renardine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy.
Full oft, full oft in the dawning hour,
Full oft in twilight brown
He met the maid in the woodland bow'r,
Where the stream comes foaming down
For they were faithful in a love
No wars could e'er destroy.
No tyrant's chains touched Renardine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy.
"Dear love, " she said, "l'm sore afraid,
For the foeman's force and you
They've tracked you in the lowland plain
And all the valleys through.
My kinsmen frown when you are named
Your life they would destroy
'Beware,' they say, 'of Renardine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy."
"Fear not, fear not, sweetheart," he cried,
"Fear not the foe for me
No chain shall fall, whate'er betide,
On the arm that would be free!
So leave your cruel kind and come,
When the lark is in the sky.
And it's with my life I'll guard you,
On the mountains of Pomeroy."
The morn has broke, she rose and fled
From her cruel kin and kind;
And full of love she eased down the glen.
And off the mountainside.
But the mist came down and the tempest roared,
And did all around destroy;
And a pale, drowned bride met Renardine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy.
An outlawed man in a land forlorn,
He scorned to turn and fly,
But kept the cause of freedom safe
On the mountains of Pomeroy
Absolutely beautiful! My grandmother recently passed. She descended from the Malone Clan of Pomeroy and was so proud of her Irish heritage. Words cannot express the emotions your rendition brought up in me upon hearing it. Well done. Thank you for sharing!
Fantastic singer, great song
And Niall has the northern accent to sing it with too. Perfect!
Gorgeous stuff!
The lyrics as he sings them;
The morn was breaking bright and fair,
The lark sang in the sky,
Wheb the maid she bound her goIden hair,
With a blithe glance in her eye;
For, who beyond the gay green-wood,
Was a-waiting her with joy,
Oh, who but her gallant Renardine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy.
An outlawed man in a land forlorn,
He scorned to turn and fly,
But kept the cause of freedom safe
Up on the mountains high.
Full often in the dawning hour,
Full oft in twilight brown
He met the maid in the woodland bow'r,
Where the stream comes foaming down
For they were faithful in a love
No wars could e'er destroy.
No tyrant's law touched Renardine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy.
"Dear love, " she said, "l'm sore afraid,
For the foeman's force and you
They've tracked you in the lowland plain
And all the valley through.
My kinsmen frown when you are named
Your life they would destroy
'Beware,' they say, 'of Renardine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy."
"Fear not, fear not, sweetheart," he cried,
"Fear not the foe for me
No chain shall fall, whate'er betide,
On the arm that would be free!
Oh, leave your cruel kin and come,
When the lark is in the sky.
And it's with my gun I'll guard you,
On the mountains of Pomeroy."
The morn has come, she rose and fled
From her cruel kin and home;
And bright the wood, and rosy red,
And the dumbling torrent's foam.
But the mist came down and the tempest roared,
And did all around destroy;
And a pale, drowned bride met Renardine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy.
This is good full stop.
Awesome Bro. Beautiful stuff
Niall Hannah use to be my p5 teacher at St.patricks annaghmore primary school😂😤😥😦😢😣😛
Yep a great rendition ,
Would have wished that lovely girl in the background had contributed more
Briseann an dúchas trí shúile an chait! Geordie is listening up there and is well pleased with his grandson!
Agus ritheann an t-im tríd an starraí.
Renardine was not the hero's surname. It would have been an insulting word (with many different spellings) used by English colonisers to describe an Irish rebel. To the Irish a renardine would be a hero - thus "he kept the cause of freedom high*, on the mountains of Pomeroy". *High was in the version my father sang.
Gentle, subtle conveyance of a tragedy.
Explain? Trying to figure this song out. Rebar dove was a derogatory title for a rebel? Like Fenian used today?
Yes, in the context of the Irish ballad, The Mountains of Pomeroy (particularly loved in the 6 counties), Renardine is the word for an Irish rebel - "an outlawed man in a land forlorn". The song ends in tragedy with the "maiden" waiting to elope with her Renardine at their trysting place - "in the woodland bower where the stream comes rushing down". As she waits "the mist came down and the tempest roared and and did all around destroy" - the stream bursts its banks and the maid drowns. I hope you learn the lyrics and will sing The Mountains of Pomeroy.
@@bealfeirsteabu Regarding "Rebar dove", I regret to say I am not familiar with the term. I imagine the "dove" part is an anglicisation of the Gaelic word "dubh" which means black or dark.
Slieve Gallon brae