Lyrics For Irish Wedding Songs

GREENSLEEVES

All in the beautiful month of May (June)
While the birds sang clear at the break of day
The sun was driving the clouds away
and the dew on the daisies like silver lay.

Ring wedding bells gaily ring
while the merry birds on the tree top sing
Open your casement bright
to the beams of the rosy (May) morning

A fairerer morning I na'er did see
And a fairer maiden can never be
she won my heart when she smiled at me
through the beams of the rosy (May) morning

CHORUS:

Greensleeves was all my joy
Greensleeves was my delight
Greensleeves was my heart of gold
and who but my lady Greensleeves

Mo Nighean Donn, Bhoidheach- E flat

Ho ro, my nut brown maiden
Hi ri my nut brown maiden
Ho ro ro, maiden
Who else would I marry but thee

Ho ro, my nut brown maiden
Hi ri my nut brown maiden
Ho ro ro, maiden
For she's the love for me

Her eyes so mildly beaming
Her look so frank and freeing
In working and in dreaming
Is always ever with me

O, love, mild eyed, loved one
by land or on the sea
though time and tide may vary
My heart beats true for thee

And when with blossoms laden
right summer comes again
I'll wed my nut brown maiden
Down in the bonnie glen

Cup of Wonder

May I make my fond excuses for the late-ness of the hour;
But we accept your invitation, and would bring you Beltane's flower.
For the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did ley will heed this song that calls them back.
Pass the word and pass the lady and pass the plate to all who hunger.
And pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.
And pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.

Ask the Green Man where he comes from, ask the cup that fills with red.
Ask the old grey standing stones who show the sun his way to bed.
Question all as to their ways, and learn the secrets that they hold.
Walk the lines of Nature's palm, crossed with silver and with gold.
Pass the cup and pass the lady and pass the plate to all who hunger.
And pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.
And pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.

Join in black December's sadness, lie in August's welcome corn.
Stir the cup that's ever filling with the blood of all that's born.
But the May Day is the great day, sung along the old straight track.
And those who ancient lines did ley will heed this song that calls them back.
And pass the wit of ancient wisdom, pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.
And pass the Cup of Crimson Wonder.

Cup of Wonder by Ian Anderson --Songs from the Wood

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