> Folk Musix > Songs > The Maid from Bunclody

The Maid of/from Bunclody

[ Roud 3000 ; Ballad Index BroaTSoB ; DT BUNCLOUD ; Mudcat 17080 , 154257 ; trad.]

[Note: The Irish town is called Bunclody. Some singers pronounce/spell it Buncloudy in their versions.]

Martyn Wyndham-Read sang The Maid from Buncloudy in 1971 on his eponymous Trailer album Martyn Wyndham-Read. He also sang it as Buncloudy in 1992 on his Fellside album Beyond the Red Horizon where he noted:

Buncloudy is an Irish song I learnt from my great friend, Brian Mooney, who now lives in Tasmania. I remember Brian singing this back in the 60s in Melbourne, and such memories stay implanted.

Iain MacGillivray sang The Maid of Buncloudy in 1986 on his Fellside album Rolling Home. He noted:

A song from Co. Wexford of loved and parting, a recurring theme in folk song of both Ireland and Scotland.

Sean Doyle sang The Maid of Bunclody, and the Lad She Loves Dear on his 2004 album The Light and the Half-Light. He noted:

This is one I have always loved from Colm O Lochlainn’s Irish Street Ballads (1939).

Ivan Drever sang Bon Claudy on his 2004 album of songs and tunes in the Scottish Tradition, Tradtition. He noted:

Not sure where I first heard this song but have always loved the melody. The only other recording I know of is by the Fureys.

Lyrics

Martyn Wyndham-Read sings The Maid from Buncloudy

Oh were I at the moss house where the birds do increase
By the foot of Mount Leinster or some silent place
By the streams of Buncloudy where all pleasures do meet
And all that I ask is one kiss from you sweet

Oh the streams of Buncloudy they flow down to the sea
By the streams of Buncloudy I am longing to be
A-drinking stong liquor at the height of my cheer
Here’s a health to Buncloudy and the lass I love dear

Oh the cuckoo is a pretty bird and she sings as she flies
She brings us glad tidings and she tells us no lies
She sucks all of the small birds’ eggs just to make her voice clear
And the more she sings “Cuckoo” the summer draws near

If I were a clerk and I could write a good hand
I would write to my true love so that she’d understand
That I am a young fellow who is wounded in love
Once I lived in Buncloudy but now must remove

So farewell to my father and my mother adieu
To my sister and my brother farewell unto you
I am bound out for America my fortune to try
When I think on Buncloudy I am ready to die

Sean Doyle sings The Maid of Bunclody, and the Lad She Loves Dear

O were I at the moss house where the birds do increase
At the foot of Mount Leinster or some silent place
By the streams of Bunclody where all pleasures do meet
And all that I ask is one kiss from you sweet

O the streams of Bunclody they flow down so free
By the banks of the Slaney I am longing to be
A-drinking good liquor in the height of my cheer
Here’s a health to Bunclody and the lass I love dear

But it’s how my love slights me, as you might understand
For she has a free hold and I have no land
She has riches in plenty and a fortune in gold
And everything fitting a house to uphold

And if I were a clerk and could write a good hand
I would pen my love a letter she might understand
For I am a young fellow who is slighted in love
Once I lived in Bunclody but now must remove

And the cuckoo she’s a pretty bird, she sings as she flies
She brings us good tidings and tells us no lie
She sucks the wild bird’s egg for to make her voice clear
And the more she cries “Cuckoo” the summer draws near

So it’s fare thee well Father, and Mother adieu
To my sister and brother fare well unto you
I am bound for America for my fortune to try
When I think of Bunclody I’m ready to cry