Old Ardboe


Ye gods, assist my poor wearied notion
Inspired muses, lend your hand
Help my endeavours night and morning
To sing the praise of that lovely strand
Situated in the north of Ireland
In the county of sweet Tyrone
Along the banks of famed the Lough Neagh
Is that ancient fabric of Old Ardboe

Stand awhile, view the harbour
Purling streams roll to and fro
Fishing, sporting night and morning
Yield their bounty to old Ardboe
No serpent lurks in its hallowed waters
No odours poisoned infest the breeze
Peace and plenty for sons and daughters
Abound around you, sweet Lough Neagh

I’ve travelled France, I’ve travelled Flanders
All the countries beyond the Rhine
In all my rakings and undertakings
Ardboe, your equal I ne’er could find
My course, I’ve taken to India’s ocean
The shores of Cana and Galilee
In all my travels the wide world over
Ardboe, your equal I ne’er did see

Tyrone 1

Songs of Tyrone

Some extra verses

In the summer season for recreation
You can careless stray along the strands
Where Boreas’ breezes are gently blowing
Along the shores where the fabric stands
Twenty-fourth of June and the second of August
They do assemble from every part
For to petition the Queen of Heaven
To pardon sinners with contrite heart

Humbly beseeching the Queen of Heaven
On her dear Son for to prevail
While on all occasions you’ll be attended
By its dear loved pastor, priest O’Neill
It was St. Patrick that did adorn
That great cross he placed on high
So that each spectator might well remember
How on the cross God’s Son did die