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Henry Joy

Anonymous
Language: English


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[subito dopo il 1798]
Canzone di autore anonimo risalente alla fallita ribellione irlandese del 1798, quella capitanata da Wolfe Tone.
Testo trovato su A Small Collection Of '98 Songs
Interpretata da molti artisti, tra cui The McPeake Family (1965), Brian McCollum Folk Group (1966), The Irish Rovers e The Folkstones (1968), Tommy Makem (1970), The Battering Ram (1973), Barleycorn (1974), Dé Dannan (1980), Frank Harte e Donald Lunny (1998, in occasione del bicentenario dell’Irish Rebellion).



Henry Joy McCracken (1767-1798), rampollo di una delle più importanti e ricche famiglie di Belfast, imprenditore, di credo presbiteriano, fu fondatore degli United Irishmen, insieme a Wolfe Tone, Samuel Neilson e Thomas Russell. Quando nel 1798 scoppiò la rivolta anti-inglese, Henry Joy McCracken organizzò i ribelli nella contea di Antrim. Il 7 giugno la battaglia per il controllo del capoluogo si risolse in una disfatta dei ribelli. McCracken, riconosciuto mentre cercava di fuggire, fu catturato. Gli inglesi gli offrirono salva la vita se avesse collaborato nell’identificazione degli altri leader della rivolta, ma lui rifiutò e così il 17 luglio seguente venne impiccato sul patibolo di Corn Market a Belfast.
An Ulster man I am proud to be,
From the Antrim glens I come.
Although I labour by the sea,
I have followed flag and drum.
I have heard the martial tramp of men;
I've seen them fight and die.
Ah! lads I well remember when
I followed Henry Joy.

I pulled my boat in from the sea,
I hid my sails away.
I hung my nets upon a tree
And scanned the moonlit bay.
The boys were out, the redcoats too,
I bade my wife good-bye,
And then beneath the greenwood glade
I followed Henry Joy.

Alas, for Ireland's cause we fought
For home and sire we bled.
Though our arms were few, our hearts beat true
And five to one lay dead.
And many a lassie missed her lad
And mother mourned her boy,
For youth was strong in the dashing throng
That followed Henry Joy.

In Belfast town they built a tree
And the redcoats mustered there.
I watched him come as the roll of the drum
Sounded on the barrack square.
He kissed his sister, went aloft
Then waved a last good-bye,
And as he died, I turned and cried
They have murdered Henry Joy.

Contributed by Bernart Bartleby - 2014/11/6 - 16:09



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