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The Irish In Glasgow

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The Irish In Glasgow By Derek Warfield.
No city gave the Wolfe Tones such an enthusiastic reception as the city of Glasgow. in May of 1982, where we performed at the Apollo
Theatre for the first time. Peggy and Michael Jones promoted the concert and they deserve great credit for their courage. We had been prevented  from playing in Glasgow for over fifteen years by bigots who simply did not want to see Irish Native Tradition openly performed in Glasgow. On three previous occasions the police refused to let the concert go ahead This song covers the migration and the suffering that the Irish Community endured and should be read by  all who have an interest in Irish-Scottish history.  This song is a memorial to him and to all the  Gaels who found refuge in that great City by the Clyde

Many they say don't remember the days when the
paupers of Ireland came over the waves,
Dispossessed and evicted from their native abode
on ships fit for cattle they come in their droves,
Oh many Papists were many and wee proud of their pope
no fear of the jailer, the gallows, or rope,
They had no bitter words for no other race,
they shared their possessions and prayed for Gods grace.

The Irish in Glasgow in wealth they were poor, but the richest in sprit for they treasured their lane,
For to cries and to shouts for to ship them away, they fought and they struggled in Scotland to stay.
Said the Times o'er in London with a thunderous roar, there are no savage redskins an Manhattan's shore,
All Irish natives now would soon he as rare, and the west of Old Erin would soon be laid bare.

With famine and hunger in the west of our land the mightiest Empire would not lend a hand,
Mud cabins and savages were torn from the hills, potatoes lay rotten in ditches and drills,
They died on tlfe killside the feeble and old, the workhouse and jailhouse on the valleys and roads,
Na coffins or shrouds it would make your heart cry, the fathers and mothers and children did die.

0 pity the fate of the Irish who roam to Scotland, they wondered far from their home
Na nasty words for our race it was spaced those ape face the Irish papers declared
God gave them the power for the cross o'er the main and Scotland will shield them from famine and pain
From Cowgote to Greenock they fought for their share, ignored taunts of bigots who wormed everywhere.


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