The Foggy Dew Chords by The Wolfe Tones
Tempo:
111.8 bpm
Chords used:
Dm
Am
Gm
C
F
Tuning:Standard Tuning (EADGBE)Capo:+0fret
Start Jamming...
[A] [Dm] [Am]
[Dm] [Gm] [Dm]
As down the [C] Glenborne [Am] East I'm born [Dm] to a [G] city fair, [Dm] O die!
There are lines [Am] of marching men [Dm] in [Gm] squadrons pass [Dm] me by.
[F] No pipes did hum, [C] no battle [Am]
drum, [Dm] its sound [Gm] is loud to [Dm] add to,
But the angelic spell [Am] o'er the lippy swell rang [G] out in the [C] [Dm] foggy dew.
Right proudly high [C] over [Am] Dublin town [Dm] they flung out the [Am] flag [Dm] of war.
T'was better to die [Am] neath an iris sky [Dm] than at [Am] Suvla or [Dm] Sodal bar.
[F] And from the plains [Am] of Ryle Mead [Dm] strong men [Gm] came [Dm] hurrying through,
While Britannia's sons [C] with their long [Am]-range guns [Dm] sailed in [Gm] through the [Dm] foggy dew.
[Am]
[Dm] [C] [Dm]
Was England made [Am] our wildest [Dm] goal that small nations [Gm] might [Dm] be free,
But their lonely [D] graves [Am] are by Suvla's ways on [Dm] the fringe [Gm] of the great [Dm] North Sea.
[F] O had they died [C] by Pearse's [Am]
side, [Dm] our fog [Gm] red cow [Dm] ruled,
Their names we'd keep where [Am] the Fenians [Dm] sleep, meet the shroud of [Gm] the foggy [Dm] dew.
O the bravest fell and [Am] the Requiem bell [Dm] rang [Gm] mournfully [Dm] and clear,
For those who died [C] at [Am]
Eastertide in [Dm] the [G] springtime of [Dm] the year.
While [F] the world gazed [C] with [Am] deep amaze at [Dm] those fearless [Gm] men [Dm] but few,
Who bore the fight that [C] the [Am] freedom's light [Dm] might shine through [Gm] the [Dm] foggy dew.
[C] [Am]
[Dm] [Gm] [Dm]
Back through the glen they [Am] rode again, [Dm] my heart [Gm] with grief [Dm] was sore,
For I parted with [Am] those valiant men [Dm] I'll never [Gm] see no [Dm] more.
[A] [F] But to and fro in [C] my [Am] dreams I go and [Dm] I kneel [Gm] and pray [Dm] for you,
For slavery fled, O [Am] glorious dead, [D] when you fell in [G] the [Dm] foggy dew.
[Dm] [Gm] [Dm]
As down the [C] Glenborne [Am] East I'm born [Dm] to a [G] city fair, [Dm] O die!
There are lines [Am] of marching men [Dm] in [Gm] squadrons pass [Dm] me by.
[F] No pipes did hum, [C] no battle [Am]
drum, [Dm] its sound [Gm] is loud to [Dm] add to,
But the angelic spell [Am] o'er the lippy swell rang [G] out in the [C] [Dm] foggy dew.
Right proudly high [C] over [Am] Dublin town [Dm] they flung out the [Am] flag [Dm] of war.
T'was better to die [Am] neath an iris sky [Dm] than at [Am] Suvla or [Dm] Sodal bar.
[F] And from the plains [Am] of Ryle Mead [Dm] strong men [Gm] came [Dm] hurrying through,
While Britannia's sons [C] with their long [Am]-range guns [Dm] sailed in [Gm] through the [Dm] foggy dew.
[Am]
[Dm] [C] [Dm]
Was England made [Am] our wildest [Dm] goal that small nations [Gm] might [Dm] be free,
But their lonely [D] graves [Am] are by Suvla's ways on [Dm] the fringe [Gm] of the great [Dm] North Sea.
[F] O had they died [C] by Pearse's [Am]
side, [Dm] our fog [Gm] red cow [Dm] ruled,
Their names we'd keep where [Am] the Fenians [Dm] sleep, meet the shroud of [Gm] the foggy [Dm] dew.
O the bravest fell and [Am] the Requiem bell [Dm] rang [Gm] mournfully [Dm] and clear,
For those who died [C] at [Am]
Eastertide in [Dm] the [G] springtime of [Dm] the year.
While [F] the world gazed [C] with [Am] deep amaze at [Dm] those fearless [Gm] men [Dm] but few,
Who bore the fight that [C] the [Am] freedom's light [Dm] might shine through [Gm] the [Dm] foggy dew.
[C] [Am]
[Dm] [Gm] [Dm]
Back through the glen they [Am] rode again, [Dm] my heart [Gm] with grief [Dm] was sore,
For I parted with [Am] those valiant men [Dm] I'll never [Gm] see no [Dm] more.
[A] [F] But to and fro in [C] my [Am] dreams I go and [Dm] I kneel [Gm] and pray [Dm] for you,
For slavery fled, O [Am] glorious dead, [D] when you fell in [G] the [Dm] foggy dew.
Key:
Dm
Am
Gm
C
F
Dm
Am
Gm
[A] _ [Dm] _ _ _ _ [Am] _ _ _
_ [Dm] _ _ [Gm] _ _ [Dm] _ _ _
As down the [C] Glenborne [Am] East I'm born [Dm] to a [G] city fair, [Dm] O die! _
There are lines [Am] of marching men [Dm] in [Gm] squadrons pass [Dm] me by.
[F] No pipes did hum, [C] no battle [Am]
drum, [Dm] its sound [Gm] is loud to [Dm] add to,
But the angelic spell [Am] o'er the lippy swell rang [G] out in the [C] [Dm] foggy dew. _
Right proudly high [C] over [Am] Dublin town [Dm] they flung out the [Am] flag [Dm] of war.
T'was better to die [Am] neath an iris sky [Dm] than at [Am] Suvla or [Dm] Sodal bar. _
[F] And from the plains [Am] of Ryle Mead [Dm] strong men [Gm] came [Dm] hurrying through, _
While Britannia's sons [C] with their long [Am]-range guns [Dm] sailed in [Gm] through the [Dm] foggy dew. _
_ _ _ _ _ [Am] _ _ _
_ [Dm] _ _ _ [C] _ [Dm] _ _ _
Was England made [Am] our wildest [Dm] goal that small nations [Gm] might [Dm] be free,
But their lonely [D] graves [Am] are by Suvla's ways on [Dm] the fringe [Gm] of the great [Dm] North Sea. _
[F] O had they died [C] by Pearse's [Am]
side, [Dm] our fog [Gm] red cow [Dm] ruled, _
Their names we'd keep where [Am] the Fenians [Dm] sleep, meet the shroud of [Gm] the foggy [Dm] dew.
O the bravest fell and [Am] the Requiem bell [Dm] rang [Gm] mournfully [Dm] and clear, _
For those who died [C] at [Am] _
Eastertide in [Dm] the [G] springtime of [Dm] the year.
While [F] the world gazed [C] with [Am] deep amaze at [Dm] those fearless [Gm] men [Dm] but few, _
Who bore the fight that [C] the [Am] freedom's light [Dm] might shine through [Gm] the [Dm] foggy dew. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [C] _ [Am] _ _
_ [Dm] _ _ [Gm] _ _ [Dm] _ _ _
Back through the glen they [Am] rode again, [Dm] my heart [Gm] with grief [Dm] was sore,
For I parted with [Am] those valiant men [Dm] I'll never [Gm] see no [Dm] _ more.
[A] [F] But to and fro in [C] my [Am] dreams I go and [Dm] I kneel [Gm] and pray [Dm] for you,
For slavery fled, O [Am] _ glorious dead, [D] when you fell in [G] the [Dm] foggy dew.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ [Dm] _ _ [Gm] _ _ [Dm] _ _ _
As down the [C] Glenborne [Am] East I'm born [Dm] to a [G] city fair, [Dm] O die! _
There are lines [Am] of marching men [Dm] in [Gm] squadrons pass [Dm] me by.
[F] No pipes did hum, [C] no battle [Am]
drum, [Dm] its sound [Gm] is loud to [Dm] add to,
But the angelic spell [Am] o'er the lippy swell rang [G] out in the [C] [Dm] foggy dew. _
Right proudly high [C] over [Am] Dublin town [Dm] they flung out the [Am] flag [Dm] of war.
T'was better to die [Am] neath an iris sky [Dm] than at [Am] Suvla or [Dm] Sodal bar. _
[F] And from the plains [Am] of Ryle Mead [Dm] strong men [Gm] came [Dm] hurrying through, _
While Britannia's sons [C] with their long [Am]-range guns [Dm] sailed in [Gm] through the [Dm] foggy dew. _
_ _ _ _ _ [Am] _ _ _
_ [Dm] _ _ _ [C] _ [Dm] _ _ _
Was England made [Am] our wildest [Dm] goal that small nations [Gm] might [Dm] be free,
But their lonely [D] graves [Am] are by Suvla's ways on [Dm] the fringe [Gm] of the great [Dm] North Sea. _
[F] O had they died [C] by Pearse's [Am]
side, [Dm] our fog [Gm] red cow [Dm] ruled, _
Their names we'd keep where [Am] the Fenians [Dm] sleep, meet the shroud of [Gm] the foggy [Dm] dew.
O the bravest fell and [Am] the Requiem bell [Dm] rang [Gm] mournfully [Dm] and clear, _
For those who died [C] at [Am] _
Eastertide in [Dm] the [G] springtime of [Dm] the year.
While [F] the world gazed [C] with [Am] deep amaze at [Dm] those fearless [Gm] men [Dm] but few, _
Who bore the fight that [C] the [Am] freedom's light [Dm] might shine through [Gm] the [Dm] foggy dew. _ _
_ _ _ _ _ [C] _ [Am] _ _
_ [Dm] _ _ [Gm] _ _ [Dm] _ _ _
Back through the glen they [Am] rode again, [Dm] my heart [Gm] with grief [Dm] was sore,
For I parted with [Am] those valiant men [Dm] I'll never [Gm] see no [Dm] _ more.
[A] [F] But to and fro in [C] my [Am] dreams I go and [Dm] I kneel [Gm] and pray [Dm] for you,
For slavery fled, O [Am] _ glorious dead, [D] when you fell in [G] the [Dm] foggy dew.
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
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