Old Songs - The Star of Monivea | dúchas.ie (duchas.ie)

1.
Come on, come on North Galway men,
The time is now at hand,
To strike a blow for Ireland
And for our fatherland
You will strike a blow for Ireland
Upon the polling day
If you vote for brave Tom Higgins
The star of Monivea
2.
Arise, arise North Galway men
And open both your eyes
We have acted foolish long enough
It's time for us to be wise.
Don't vote for Colonel Nolan
Or you will regret the day
But vote for brave Tom Higgins
The star of Monivea.
3.
You know the Colonel's backers

They are a dirty crew,
The landlords and the grazers
And the grabbers are a few.
The porter moles, and corner boys
Will join them in array
To defeat brave Thomas Higgins
The star of Monivea
4.
I tell you Colonel Nolan
You are a great disgrace.
You rack-ranter and evicter
How dare you show your face
We'll assemble in our thousands
Upon the polling day,
And, vote for brave Tom Higgins
The star of Monivea.
5.
Again, again North Galway men
It is my last appeal
Down, down with landlordism

The Colonel is the tail
That God he may reward you
Upon the Judgement day
If you vote for brave Tom Higgins
The Star of Monivea.

Composed about 1897
By Thomas J. Neary,
Moate,
Creggs,
Co. Roscommon.

1.

t was on a summers evening in 1863

I rambled down the Abbert Road my comrade boys to see

I met them all together as I often did before

And I spent the night till broad daylight with the boys of Carrowmore

 2.

Good luck attend the Abbert boys as I am sure it will

For its lonely they have left me at the corner of Ryehill

There is not a time when I go out but I do bawl and roar

Oh how I sigh and loudly cry for the boys of Carrowmore

3.

But now they are all departed, sorry I am to say

For any leisure hour I had with them I used to play

But now their loving parents their loss they do deplore 

For its far away in America are the Boys of Carrowmore

4.

My curse attend the Land Lord who did them separate

Unto a foreign country they had to emigrate

They had to seek a livelihood all on a foreign shore

They are all away in America, the boys of Carrowmore

5.

Bad luck to Reddington Roche and all he goes with

He was afraid to turn me out because I was a smith

But he sent them to America because he was so keen

And any who stayed at home were transported to Cloonkeen

6.

Walking through these green fields makes my heart lament

When I think of my comrade boys and the hours with them I spent

WhenI think of these gallant lads who cheered me here to fore

You can believe its then I grieve for the boys of Carrowmore

7.

Jim Dolly was our captain and his orders we obeyed

We never once objected to anything he said

To see us play together when he would give a roar

Then you would see a great melee from the boys of Carrowmore

8.

I wish I was a landlord and had a great estate

I would give them all free holdings with neither rent or rates

I would give them plenty of money too if I had it in store

But to my grief there is no relief for the boys of Carrowmore

9.

Since they all departed I no longer wish to stay

I'l gather up my goods and chattels and go to America

Its there I'll meet with all the boys the lads I do adore

And when having a drink I'll fondly think of the boys of Carrowmore

10.

In their fun and merriment that causes me to spake

They were the best of company at either dance or wake

If ever you had to take a rest you could not sleep or snore 

With the rousing fun till  the rising sun with the boys of Carrowmore

11.

While life lasts within my breast those thoughts shall ever dwell

With gratitude I'll count them ore and all their music tell

All of them were so dear their absence I deplore

May heaven bless and save them all the Boys of Carrowmore

____________________________________________________________________________________________

The above song the 'Boys of Carrowmore' was composed by Jim Dolly on the occasion of the evictions from lands at Carrowmore supposedly because smoke from the fires in the bohans where the tenants lived was interfering with the Reddington Roche Landlords family. Reddington Roche also carried out evictions in Corrafaireen. Some of the evicted got work laying the new railway line between Athymon and Athenry.  While Reddington Roche  instigated these evictions the Reddington Roches had donated land for the building of both the church and the school. Two members of the family also became nuns. Fr. Cribben writing in the forties remarked that "they were no better or worse than any other landlord". 

IN MEMORIAM
Inscribed to the memory of the late Mr. T. Higgins, M.P., Ryehill, Monivea. Written by  by R. J. MORROW, Monivea, Athenry.

He is gone, how we miss him, the trusty and brave,
His country the loss may deplore;
His memory doth live, though he's lost to our gaze,
Yet the name we will always adore.
Beloved by the peasant, esteemed by the great,
Endowed with a true hero’s will;
Ah, well may we mourn our chieftain that’s gone,
True patriot of lovely Ryehill.

Back o’er the years of oppression and pain
Our guide and our mentor was he;
Freely his counsel, devoid of all gain,
His motto to save and to free.
Undaunted he struggled, determined he strove
His mission in life to fulfill;
But the monster unseen stilled the heart of the brave,
Genial patriot of lovely Ryehill.

Through the province of Connaught, from Sligo to Clare,
Admired and respected was he.
His name was a watchword all over the land,
From the Shannon along to the sea.
At his call on to victory the grabber should yield,
And the ranches left naked until
The toiler at ease can enjoy the reward
Of the patriot of lovely Ryehill.

Yet the work of the martyr’s unfinished, undone,
His greatness is lost to us now;
The sands from the life of the patriot run
Whilst the laurel rests cool on his brow.
In the great crowning contest for victory he fought,
Rewarded by glory, yet still—
Ere he tasted the fruits of his labour, alas,
He left us and lovely Ryehill.

Peace, peace to the shade where the hero doth sleep,
He earned a peaceful repose.
In the cause of a nation his name is inscribed
In relieving her burden of woe.
Midst the scenes of his labours his monument raised—
There he calmly is sleeping until
We cross o’er the bourne to meet him again,
The patriot of lovely Ryehill.

R. J. MORROW,
Monivea, Athenry.