Rare Old Mountain Dew
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Bb major Transposition B major Transposition C major Transposition C# major Transposition D major Transposition Eb major Transposition E major Transposition F major Transposition F# major Transposition G major Transposition Ab major Transposition A major Transposition
About 'Rare Old Mountain Dew'
Born:
-
, -
Died:
-
, -
The Artist:
Traditional Music of unknown author.
Composed:
1882
Info:
Irish Folk Song from c.1882 about the intoxicating properties of Irish moonshine, or PoitÃn.
It was written by Edward Harrigan with music by David Braham
Lyrics
Let grasses grow and waters flow
In a free and easy way
But give me enough of the rare old stuff
That's made near Galway Bay
And policemen all from Donegal,
Sligo and Leitrim too
We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip
Of the real old mountain dew.
There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill
Where the smoke curls up to the sky
By a whiff of the smell you can plainly tell
That there's poteen boys close by.
For it fills the air with a perfume rare
And betwixt both me and you
As home we roll, we can drink a bowl
Or a bucketful of mountain dew.
Now learned men as use the pen
Have writ' the praises high
Of the rare poteen from Ireland green
Distilled from wheat and rye
Away with your pills, it'll cure all ills
Be ye pagan, Christian, or Jew
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucket of the mountain dew.
It was written by Edward Harrigan with music by David Braham
Lyrics
Let grasses grow and waters flow
In a free and easy way
But give me enough of the rare old stuff
That's made near Galway Bay
And policemen all from Donegal,
Sligo and Leitrim too
We'll give them the slip and we'll take a sip
Of the real old mountain dew.
There's a neat little still at the foot of the hill
Where the smoke curls up to the sky
By a whiff of the smell you can plainly tell
That there's poteen boys close by.
For it fills the air with a perfume rare
And betwixt both me and you
As home we roll, we can drink a bowl
Or a bucketful of mountain dew.
Now learned men as use the pen
Have writ' the praises high
Of the rare poteen from Ireland green
Distilled from wheat and rye
Away with your pills, it'll cure all ills
Be ye pagan, Christian, or Jew
So take off your coat and grease your throat
With a bucket of the mountain dew.
Score Key:
Eb major (Sounding Pitch) (
View more Eb major Music for Voice )
View more Eb major Music for Voice )Tempo Marking:
Steady two in a bar 
=c.100
=c.100Duration:
1:02
Time Signature:
2/2 (View more 2/2 Music)
View more 2/2 Music)Range:
Bb4-C6
Number of Pages:
2
Difficulty:
Intermediate Level: Recommended for Intermediate Level players
Instrument:
Style:
Copyright:
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