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Eileen Og
Percy French, 1854-1920
notes: "Young Eileen". A song of missed opportunity of romance.
Eileen Og (Pride of Petravore)

Am                   E                    Am
Eileen Og; sure, that the lasses’ name is
G                                 D7                       G
Through the Barony her features, they were famous
Am                   E                        Am
If we loved her, who was there to blame us
                          E                 Am
For wasn’t she the pride of Petravore

But her beauty made us all so shy
Not a man among us could look her in the eye
Boys, oh boys, sure that’s the reason why
We’re all in mourning for the Pride of Petravore

    F                   C
Oh, Eileen Og, me heart is growin’ grey
E                               Am          E     Am
Ever since the day you wandered far away
F                        C
Eileen Og, there’s good fish in the sea
              Am                          E                 Am
But there’s none of them like the pride of Petravore

Friday at the fair of Ballintubber
Eileen met McGrath, the cattle jobber
Sure, I’d like to put me mark upon the robber
For he stole away the Pride of Petravore

He never seemed to see the girl at all
Even when she ogled him from underneath her shawl
He was lookin’ big and masterful while she was lookin’ small
Most provokin’ for the Pride of Petravore


So it went as it was in the beginning
Eileen was intent upon the winning
Big McGrath contentedly was grinning
Bein’ courted by the Pride of Petravore

Says he: I know a girl that would knock you into fits
At this Eileen nearly lost her wits
And the upshot of the ruction is that now the robber sits
With his arms about the Pride of Petravore


Boys, oh boys, with Fate it’s hard to grapple
Of me eye, sure Eileen was the apple
And now to see he walkin’ to the chapple
With the hardest featured man in Petravore

Now, me boys, this is all I have to say
When you do your courtin’, make no grand display
If you want them to run after you must walk the other way
For they’re mostly like the Pride of Petravore