My Wild Irish Rose - Chauncey Olcott (1899) (Arr. Keith Jarrett) скачать в хорошем качестве

My Wild Irish Rose - Chauncey Olcott (1899) (Arr. Keith Jarrett)

Because it is almost Saint Patrick's Day, I wanted to play this song by Chauncey Olcott (1858-1932), who was an American stage actor, songwriter and singer of Irish descent. Born in Buffalo, New York, his mother, Margaret, was a native of Killeagh, County Cork, in Ireland. His songs captured the mood of his Irish-American audience by combining melodic and rhythmic phrases from traditional Irish music with melancholy sentiment. Popular numbers from his musicals include today's selection of "My Wild Irish Rose" from A Romance of Athlone, "Mother Machree" from Barry of Ballymore, and "When Irish Eyes Are Smiling" from The Isle o' Dreams. Olcott's life story was told in the 1947 Warner Bros. motion picture My Wild Irish Rose starring Dennis Morgan as Olcott. Here are the lyrics to today's song: If you'll listen, I'll sing you a sweet little song, Of a flower that's now drooped and dead, Yet dearer to me, yes, than all of its mates, Tho' each holds aloft its proud head. 'Twas given to me by a girl that I know, Since we've met, faith, I've known no repose, She is dearer by far than the world's brightest star, And I call her my wild Irish Rose My wild Irish Rose, The sweetest flow'r that grows, You may search ev'rywhere, But none can compare With my wild Irish Rose. My wild Irish Rose, The dearest flow'r that grows, And some day for my sake, She may let me take The bloom from my wild Irish Rose. They may sing of their roses which, by other names, Would smell just as sweetly, they say, But I know that my Rose would never consent To have that sweet name taken away. Her glances are shy when e'er I pass by The bower, where my true love grows; And my one wish has been that some day I may win The heart of my wild Irish Rose. My wild Irish Rose, the sweetest flower that grows. You may search everywhere, but none can compare With my wild Irish Rose. My wild Irish Rose, the dearest flower that grows, And some day for my sake, she may let me take The bloom from my wild Irish Rose.