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Róisín a Stór
Martin Howley
Fanore, north west Clare
Recorded in singer's home, summer 1975

Carroll Mackenzie Collection

 

Martin Howley

Oh Stóirín, oh why do you tease, when you know that I’m faithful and true?
My heart is as slight as a breeze whenever I’m looking on you.
There isn’t a land or a throne, or anything under the sun
That I’ll give for one jewel alone, that jewel that is hard to be won.

O Róisín a-stoirín, no palace nor castle for me,
For I’d rather a cot in a bohreen, were you in it a-stoirín mo chroí.

You trip with the lad through the dance, whilst I in the corner do pine
And dreaming like one in a trance, and thinking some day you’d be mine.

O Róisín a-stoirín, no palace nor castle for me,
For I’d rather a cot in a bohreen, were you in it a-stoirín mo chroí.

O stóirín I’ll wait for the word, for I know you shall speak it some day.
And it’s then with a heart of a bird, I’ll bear you in triumph away.
There won’t be a happier pair, it’s from faraway Foyle to Fermoyle,
And your beautiful self is your share, and I’ll be the comical boy.

O Róisín a-stoirín no palace nor castle for me,
For I’d rather a cot in a bohreen, were you in it a-stoirín mo chroí.


"There is no trace whatever of this possibly nineteenth century composition."
Jim Carroll


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