Congratulations to the Louth Senior Football Team on winning the Leinster Championship, recording a two-point win over Meath in the Football Final at Croke Park on Sunday last. In total eleven counties competed in the 2025 Leinster Senior Football Championship and with a crowd attendance of 65,786, Louth (their 9th title) collected the Delaney Cup to bridge a gap of 68 years. Two Mile Borris, Thurles, Co. Tipperary had a very strong connection with this winning team. Dan Corcoran and his brother Matt were both members of this Louth winning team.
Pictured L-R:Dan Corcoran with his brother Matt, lifting the Delaney Cup aloft on Sunday last, as Co. Louth win Leinster Championship Football final.
They are sons of David and Siobhan Corcoran from Blackrock, Co. Louth. Their son Dan has over 50 appearances with the County team, playing at corner back, while his brother Matt in on the extended panel. The aforementioned David Corcoran is son of Eileen and the late Sean Corcoran from the village of Two-Mile-Borris, Thurles, with strong connections to all sports activities in both the ladies and men’s competitions. David and his family are regular visitors to the Two Mile Borris area. Having reached the Leinster final for three years, the win by the ‘Wee County’ on Sunday last, according to knowledgeable sporting observers, is by no means seen as a flash in the pan for Louth, so congratulations to all.
Lyrics: Scottish singer and songwriter Ms Isla Grant. Vocals: Irish country, pop and folk singer Ms Mary Duff.
Will You Walk With Me.
Will you walk with me through the darkest night? When my world goes wrong, will you make it right? Will you guide my lips in all I say? Will you walk with me every day? When I′m tired and weak, will you make me strong? When my mind’s confused and all hope is gone, Will you take my hand, will you lead the way? Dear Lord, will you walk with me today? Will you walk with me and ease my pain? Will you walk with me, give me hope once again? When my eyes grow dim, will you let me see? Dear Lord, will you walk with me? If my friends should go when there′s no one there. If I call your name in my dark despair, Will you come to me, will you ease my pain? Dear Lord, will you walk with me again? Help me find the strength just to carry on. Teach me how to pray, for it’s been so long, Since I fell on my knees and ask that you forgive all my sins. Dear Lord, please forgive. Will you walk with me, ease my pain? Will you walk with me, give me hope once again? When my eyes grow dim will you let me see? Dear Lord, will you walk with me? Will you walk with me, through the darkest night? When my world goes wrong, will you make it right? Will you guide my lips in all I say? Will you walk with me every day? Will you walk with me, ease my pain? Will you walk with me, give me hope once again? When my eyes grow dim, will you let me see? Dear Lord, will you walk with me? Dear Lord, will you walk with me?
Memories of Thurles Maytime – Short story by Tom Ryan.
I have always thought of the month of May as one of the most colourful and romantic months of the year, ever since I saw those beautiful mayflowers in the old movie, ”Maytime”, starring the delightful duo, Nelson Eddy, and Jeannette McDonald.
Even at Scoil Ailbhe Primary School in Thurles, in the ‘Fifties’, we eagerly awaited the merry month of May as the Brothers would have us helping to dress up the May Altar at the end of the corridor. A task which took us out of the classroom and away from ink wells and nib pens and blotting paper and of course, the dreaded cane or leather. We had to fetch in flowers and blue and white crepe paper and candles for the imposing statue in blue and white stationed at the end of the corridor along which we would march to sing lovely hymns in tribute to the Blessed Virgin Mary. I can still hear the young voices singing “I’ll sing a Hymn to Mary, The Mother of My God”, and of course, the lovely Ave MariaorO’ Mother! I could weep for mirth, Joy fills my heart so fast; My soul today is heaven on earth, O could the transport last! “
As a child in the Presentation Convent Halfpenny or Penny Classes (latter the equivalent of our modern Junior Infants and Senior Infants), we would parade down a glass covered corridor to the gaily decorated and painted May Pole around which we danced and played to our hearts’ content. At home we would gather some rags, which we’d place on a May bush and off we’d go, door to door, crying “Penny On The May Bush”, and we’d hope to make a few bob for the price of the cinema or the train journey to see Tipperary playing of a Sunday, in Croke Park, Limerick Gaelic Grounds or down by the lovely Lee in Cork. Years later, my wife and I used to love Gay Byrne playing the beautiful, ”Bring Flowers of the Rarest”, recorded by Rev. Canon Sydney Mac Ewan, “Oh, Mary We crown thee with blossoms today, Queen of the Angels and Queen of the May”.
Somehow it was never quite ‘May Day’ without our hearing that lovely hymn.
Those of us boys who wore Our Lady’s Blue cravats, with our Boy Scouts Uniform, used to march around St. Patrick’s College, Thurles, in the May Procession, singing hymns and acting as a Guard of Honour, for the huge statue of Our Lady being carried around the once seminary grounds, on the banks of the River Suir, east of Thurles town. Of course May was a time of pishogues and superstitions also. An old railwayman friend of mine, once recalled for me an amazing bush in the area at Our Lady’s Well, Thurles, near to Thurles golf course. My friend recalled that “You had the mix of the Christian and Pagan traditions in Lady’s Well”.
He stated “There was a Mass tree in Lady’s Well. It had been there since Penal times and there was a large wooden cross on it. In Penal times Mass was celebrated there. There was also a bush over the nearby well which was very colourful. You would see thousands of little bits of rags on the bush, standing four or five feet high over the well. The rags had been left there in May by hundreds of people who hoped for a cure for some ailment, either of mind or body. There was a pishogue that if you left a bit of a garment that you wore close to your skin on the bush; you would be cured. The bits of garments were mainly made of red flannel which was then very popular with the women and young children. It was believed that according as the rags were worn away by the weather, so also in direct proportion was your misfortune cured or fully eliminated.
It was a pagan custom from the days of the Druids and like so many other pagan customs, it became a Christian one. My friend recalled Thurles people putting the rags on that bush at Our Lady’s Well, up to the time Thurles Town Council put a pumping station there, many years ago.
Lyrics: The late American singer, songwriter, actor and radio and television presenter Bob Haymes(1923–1989) and American obscure songwriter Marty Clarke. Vocals: American jazz singer, pianist and actress (1924–2009)Margrethe Blossom Dearie.
They Say It’s Spring.
When I was young I lived in a world of dreams, Of moods and myths and illusionary schemes. Though now I’m much more grown up, I fear that I must own up, To the fact that I’m in doubt of, What the modern cynics shout of. They say it’s spring, This feeling light as a feather, They say this thing, This magic we share together, Came with the weather too. They say it’s May, That’s made me daft as a daisy. It’s May, they say, That gave this whole world this crazy. Heavenly, hazy hue, I’m a lark, I’m a wing, I’m a spark of a firefly’s fling. Yet to me, This must be, Something more than a seasonal thing. They say it’s spring, Those bells that I can hear ringing, It may be spring, But when the robins start singing, You’re what I’m clinging to. Though they say it’s spring, It’s you. If poets sing, That when a heart sympathetic, It’s merely spring, Then poets plights are pathetic, Though I’m poetic too. They say it’s spring, For lovers, there’s where the lure is. That evil thing, For which September the cure is. This, they are sure is true, Though I know, That it’s so, That my fancy may turn in the spring, With the right one in sight, One can find a perpetual thing. Did I need spring, To bring the ring that you bought me. Though it was spring, That wondrous day that you caught me, Darling I thought we knew, That it wasn’t spring, ‘Twas you. End
Lyrics and Vocals: South London based English singer-songwriter Rose Betts.
Take This Body Home.
May the road rise up to meet you. May the wind be at your back. May all the rains fall with tenderness, On the fields and forgotten tracks. May your hardened heart be woken, By the soft and distant song, Of all you left here unspoken, All the shards we keep stepping on. Take this body home, Take this body home, Call the wind, and let her know. Take this life outgrown, Take this broken soul, Call the stars, call them all, And take it high, take it far, take it home. May the dark and bitter feelings, Take the path to quiet release. May all your wounds find their healing, In the last and enduring sleep. Take this body home. Take this body home, Call the wind, and let her know. Take this life outgrown, Take this broken soul, Call the stars, call them all, And take it high, take it far, take it home. Take it high, take it far, take it home. Take it high, take it far, take it home. Take it high, take it far, take it home. Oh, take it high, take it far, take it home.
Recent Comments