We’re
assembled in
New York exiles
all from
Rebel Cork,
And
we’re proud
of the
flag that o’er us waves.
But
to-night our
mem’ries turn
to the spot where
we were
born,
To
the dear
old town
that never
nursed a
slave
Chorus:
UP!
UP! Newmarket
say the
exiles,
UP! UP! Newmarket say
they all.
Whether
we shall
here remain
or return home
again,
May Newmarket
always rise
but never
fall.
|
Verse 1 & Chorus
(.swf file)
|
In
the lovely
Island Wood
where with
pride we
often stood,
Gazing on the
scenic beauty
all around.
And
its rambling
up Scarteen,
Barleyhill and
Meens between,
Oh!
What pleasure and contentment there we found.
(Repeat Chorus after each
verse)
|
Verse 2 & Chorus
(.mp3 file)
|
Boston
boasts of
Bunker Hill; brave
men fought
at Gettysville.
Newmarket too, has honours
like the
rest.
Here ‘t was Curran first drew
breath; after Emmet’s tragic
death
They laid his sweetheart Sarah here to rest.
|
Verse 3 & Chorus
(.mp3 file) |
When
the beagles’ bugle horn woke the hills on Sunday Morn
Brennan and Pat Williams made the pace.
How the hounds would yelp and howl, run their
chase into the ground!
And we followed in the rapture of the chase.
|
Verse 4 & Chorus
(.mp3 file) |
And
when after ’98 the Croppies were all bate,
The Whiteboys held their
ground on Scarteen Hill.
Three brave priests were martyred there and and their last words were a
prayer
For the land they fondly loved and we love still.
|
Verse 5 & Chorus
(.mp3 file) |
By
John Scanlon and Billy Hourigan |
|