PAT MURPHY'S MEADOW
Listen:
“When I Mowed Pat Murphy's Meadow”
Anita Best & Sandy Morris
From the album Some Songs, 2018, orderable from Fred's Records.
Performed by Sandy Morris (more info), Anita Best (more info)
Person list
Words and tune:
- John Martin Devine
Locations associated with this song:
Background Info:
Pat Murphy's Meadow was composed by John Martin Devine (1876-1959), a native of King's Cove, Bonavista Bay, who as a teenager helped support his widowed mother by mowing Murphy's meadows in King's Cove. In 1921 Devine was appointed Trade Commissioner for Newfoundland and moved to the New York City area. In 1931 he returned to Newfoundland and opened a small clothing store in St. John's. In 1934, he moved to a larger location and called it “The Big 6”. It's not known when he composed this song, but in 1949 he sent it to the McNulty Family, a popular Irish-American group active in the New York area. The mother, Ann, responded with a letter of thanks, saying: “I have just received your song... I am delighted with it. It is just lovely and indeed a typical McNulty number.” In 1953 the McNultys, promoted and sponsored by Devine in the radio program named after his store, “The Big Six”, toured Newfoundland. They recorded the song when they returned to New York after this tour.
Lyrics:
PAT MURPHY’S MEADOW – By J.M. DEVINE
The autumn days are here again, and the night wind’s chilly blow;
The woodland’s turned to golden hue, and the harvest moon's aglow.
I dream again of days long past to come no more, I know,
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago.
I see the blue of ocean, the distant sail afar,
As the maiden in the meadow strikes up “Dark Lough na Gar”;
There was music soft and tender in the winds that whispered low,
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago.
Where are the boys and girls all, who danced the gay quadrille,
And the singer warbling sweetly, “The Burning Granite Mill”;
To hear again at sunset, “Where Sweet Afton's Waters Flow”,
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago.
Those days are but a mem’ry, like the snows of yesteryear.
And when evening shades are falling, all alone I shed a tear;
On my cheek I feel the soft touch of winds that whispered low,
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago.
The autumn days are here again, and the night wind’s chilly blow;
The woodland’s turned to golden hue, and the harvest moon's aglow.
I dream again of days long past to come no more, I know,
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago.
I see the blue of ocean, the distant sail afar,
As the maiden in the meadow strikes up “Dark Lough na Gar”;
There was music soft and tender in the winds that whispered low,
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago.
Where are the boys and girls all, who danced the gay quadrille,
And the singer warbling sweetly, “The Burning Granite Mill”;
To hear again at sunset, “Where Sweet Afton's Waters Flow”,
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago.
Those days are but a mem’ry, like the snows of yesteryear.
And when evening shades are falling, all alone I shed a tear;
On my cheek I feel the soft touch of winds that whispered low,
When I mowed Pat Murphy's meadow in the sunny long ago.