Misc Traditional – The Glen Of Aherlow (Guitar)

A                     G              D              A
My name is Patrick Sheehan, and my years are thirty-four

A                     G              D              E
Tipperary is my native place, not far from Galtymore

A                   G          D                 E
I came of honest parents, but now they’re lying low

A                            G                   D           A
Though many’s the pleasant days we spent in the Glen of Aherlow

A                     G              D              A
My father died; I closed his eyes outside the cabin door

A                     G              D              E
For the landlord and the sheriff too were there the day before

A                   G          D                 E
And then my loving mother and my sisters three also

A                            G                   D           A
Were forced to go with broken hearts from the Glen of Aherlow

A                     G              D              A
For three long months, in search of work, I wandered far and near

A                     G              D              E
I then went to the poorhouse to see my mother dear

A                   G          D                 E
The news I heard near broke my heart, but still in all my woe

A                            G                   D           A
I blessed the friends who made their graves in the Glen of Aherlow

A                     G              D              A
Bereft of home and kith and kin, with plenty all around

A                     G              D              E
I starved within my cabin, and slept upon the ground

A                   G          D                 E
But cruel as my lot was, I never did hardship know

A                         G          D           A
’til I joined the English army, far away from Aherlow

A                     G              D              A
‘Rouse up there’, cried the corporal, ‘Ya lazy Irish hound

A                     G              D              E
Why don’t you hear the bugle, its call to arms to sound ?’

A                   G          D                 E
I found I had been dreaming of the days long, long ago

A                         G          D           A
And I woke upon Sebastopol, and not in Aherlow

A                     G              D              A
I tried to find my musket, how dark I thought the night

A                     G              D              E
O blessed God, it wasn’t dark, it was the broad daylight

A                   G          D                 E
And when I found that I was blind, my tears began to flow

A                         G          D           A
And I longed for even a pauper’s grave in the Glen of Aherlow

A                     G              D              A
A poor neglected mendicant, I wander Dublin’s streets

A                     G              D              E
My nine months’ pension it being out, I beg from all I meet

A                   G          D                 E
As I joined my country’s tyrants, my face I can never show

A                         G          D           A
Amongst my dear old neighbors in the Glen of Aherlow.

A                     G              D              A
So Irish youths, dear countrymen, take heed in what I say

A                     G              D              E
For if you join the English ranks, you’ll surely rue the day

A                   G          D                 E
And whenever you’re tempted, a-soldiering to go

A                         G          D           A
Remember poor blind Sheehan from the Glen of Aherlow