The Felons (Complete Original Ballad, 1848) | John T. Campion | Full Historical Text скачать в хорошем качестве

The Felons (Complete Original Ballad, 1848) | John T. Campion | Full Historical Text

The Felons is a 19th-century Irish ballad written by John T. Campion during the era of the Young Ireland movement. This recording presents the complete original text of “The Felons” by John T. Campion, as published in the 19th century. An earlier shortened adaptation remains available on the channel. The ballad is associated with the events of 1848, when leaders of the movement — including Thomas Francis Meagher — were outlawed and forced into hiding. It tells the story of fugitives seeking shelter at a peasant’s cabin door, and of a choice between gold and loyalty. This version preserves the full historical wording. 📖 Complete Lyrics “Good peasant, we are strangers here, And night is gathering fast; The stars scarce glimmer in the sky, And moans the mountain blast: Canst tell us of a place to rest? We’re wearied with the road; No churl the peasant used to be With homely couch and food.” “I cannot help myself, nor know Where ye may rest or stay; A few more hours the moon will shine, And light you on your way.” “But, peasant, can you let a man Appeal to you in vain; Here at your very cabin door, And ’mid the pelting rain? Here in the dark, and in the night Where one scarce sees a span, What!—close your heart!—and close your door! And be an Irishman?” “No—no—go on—the moon will rise In a short hour or two; What can a peaceful labourer say? Or a poor toiler do?” “You’re poor? well—here’s a golden chance To make you rich and great; Five hundred pounds are on our heads! The gibbet is our fate! Fly—raise the cry, and win the gold; Or some may cheat you soon; And we’ll abide by the road side, And wait the rising moon.” What ails the peasant?—does he flush At the wild greed of gold? Why seizes he the wanderers’ hands?— Hark to his accents bold:— “Ho! I have a heart for you, neighbours, Ay, and a hearth and a home; Ay, and a help for you, neighbours; God bless ye, and prosper ye—come! Come—out of the light of the soldiers; Come in ’mongst the children and all; And I’ll guard ye for sake of old Ireland, Till Connall himself gets a fall. To the devil with all their gold guineas— Come in—everything is your own; And I’ll kneel at your feet, friends of Ireland What I wouldn’t for king on his throne. God bless ye that stood in the danger, In the midst of the country’s mishap; That stood up to meet the big famine: Och! ye are the men in the gap! Come in—with a ‘Céad Míle Fáilte;’ Sit down, and don’t make any noise, Till I come for more comforts to crown ye; Till I gladden the hearts of the boys. Arrah! shake hands again—noble fellows! That left your own homes for the poor; Not a man in the land could betray you, Or shut up his heart or his door.” 🎬 Credits Text: John T. Campion (19th century) — Public Domain Complete Original Text Version Arrangement, Performance & Recording © 2026 Irish Longing All Rights Reserved Biblical reference cited in original publication: “I sought for a man that should stand in the gap before me for the land.” — Ezekiel 22:30