Irish Songs Lyrics With Guitar Chords By Martin Dardis

The Star Of The County Down

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The Star Of The County Down Song Lyrics And Guitar Chords. Written by Cathal McGarvey in 1920. The song is about a young lad infatuated with a girl [Rosie McCann] who he intends to marry if given the chance. Recorded by The Clancy Brothers, The Irish Rovers, Van Morrison,  Orthodox Celts, The Pogues. The youtube video is one of the first ever recordings of the song by John McCormack. Did you know that John McCormack who was the top singer in Ireland from 1920 to 1940s refused to sing any song that was written by Percy French. This was because Percy French was a Protestant and John McCormack was a Catholic, that's how deep feeling were in Ireland at the time.
[Em] In Banbridge Town in the G County D Down 
 One Em morning last D July, 
 From a [Em] boreen green came a [G] sweet [D] colleen 
 And she [Em] smiled as she [D] passed me by. [Em] 
 She [G] looked so sweet from her [D] two bare feet 
 To the [Em] sheen of her nut brown [D] hair. 
 Such a [Em] coaxing elf, sure I [G] shook my [D] self 
 For to [Em] see I was [D] really [Em] there.

 
From [G] Bantry Bay up to [D] Derry Quay and
From [Em] Galway to Dublin [D] Town,
No [Em maid] I've seen like the G brown [D] colleen
That I [Em] met in the D County [Em] Down.
 
 
As she onward sped, sure I shook my head
And I looked with a feeling rare.
Then I said, says I, to a passer-by,
"Who's the maid with the nut-brown hair?"
Well, he smiled at me, and with pride says he,
"That's the gem of old Ireland's crown,
She's young Rosie McCann from the banks of the Bann,
She's the Star of the County Down."
 
 
Well I've traveled a bit, but ne'er was hit
Since my roving career began;
Then fair and square I surrendered there
To the charms of young Rose McCann.
I'd a heart to let and no tenant yet
Did I see in shawl or gown,
But in she went and I asked no rent
From the Star of the County Down.
 
 
At the harvest fair, I'll be surely there
And I'll dress in my Sunday clothes
With my shoes shone bright, and my hat cocked right
For a smile from my nut-brown Rose.
No pipe I'll smoke, and no horse I'll yoke
Though with rust my plow turns brown,
Till a smiling bride by my own fireside
Sits the Star of the County Down.
 
 

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