On a wild and stormy evening,
as the fishing fleet let go,
From the harbours of the Rosses
and the ports around by Doe;
They came from Magheraroarty
and the islands “round Gweedore”
One small boat among the number,
with a crew well known and famed,
Sailed across the ocean billow
and “The Celtic” was her name
Little thought those fearless heroes,
as they sailed away in style,
The would never see their mothers
or their friends on Gola Isle.

Never now on Sunday morning,
will those bold lads sail ashore,
To pray down at the chapel
where they often went before.
Oft I bought their silvery herring
from those lads so bright and gay,
They will l never say good morning
or you’re welcome Davey Hay.
never will l they cross the sand banks,
never see those scenes so fair,
Never hear the Angelus ringing,
calling all to silent prayer.
Written by Davey Hay (1931)
January 22, 2016 at 10:48 pm
I got a copy of these lyrics from a dear friend Jack McNicol who asked me if I could put an aire to it. I chose to use the tune from Noreen Bawn. There are more verses to the one I have but it is a lovely lament.
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January 22, 2016 at 11:14 pm
Johnny Gallagher from Gweedore translated this song to Gaeilge.
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