Choral Choir (SATB divisi) - Level 2 - Digital Download SKU: A0.507012 By Alan Wagstaff. By Alan Wagstaff. Arranged by Alan Wagstaff. Celtic,Folk,Irish,Traditional. Octavo. 37 pages. Alan Wagstaff #117526. Published by Alan Wagstaff (A0.507012). This is a new Irish song about the magic of Irish music. It's arranged for choir (SSAATB), harp, piano, flute, and fiddle. Elements of O'Carolan's 'Inisheer' are woven into the melody. Lyric A Song With No Tune The stories they tell in the Town of Athlone, would gladden the heart of a man made of stone. I joined in with them freely, until it was Spring, then I was off, like a hawk on the wing - searching for fortune - and something to sing. And it’s oh! But it’s been a long time! And I hope that we meet again soon. I saw her but once, by the light of the moon. She said she would give me a song with no tune. The pipers are proud in Kildare and Athy; there's no better music found under the sky. But, one bright Summer's evening, I left them behind; put my feet to the road and I followed them blind - searching for fortune - and what I might find. And it’s oh! But it’s been a long time! And I hope that we meet again soon. I saw her but once, by the light of the moon. She said she would give me a song with no tune. The fiddlers are famous from Bantry to Cork. The rake of their reels would make the lame walk. But still, at the close of a fine Autumn day, I packed up my bags and I went on my way - searching for fortune but finding low pay. And it’s oh! But it’s been a long time! And I hope that we meet again soon. I saw her but once, by the light of the moon. She said she would give me a song with no tune. Far up the west coast, in Aran and Clare, there's harpers to bring you a magical aire. I listened, enthralled, till the Winter came on, then pulled up my boots - and soon I was gone - searching for fortune for still I had none. And it’s oh! But it’s been a long time! And I hope that we meet again soon. I saw her but once, by the light of the moon. She said she would give me a song with no tune. I rested, by chance, at the close of the day, by a small rounded hill, where I happened to stray. And there, as the drowsiness over me stole, I dreamed of a woman with eyes black as coal - And the fortune she held was the song of my soul. And it’s oh! But it’s been a long time! And I hope that we meet again soon. I saw her but once, by the light of the moon. She said she would give me a song with no tune. Alan Wagstaff.
