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Updated 02/20/2019

The Mountains of Pomeroy

The Mountains of Pomeroy are a vast range that runs west of the town of Pomeroy in County Tyrone, Northern Ireland. The area around the mountain range is scenic, with a variety of moorland, forestry and rural farming. The mountain range is recalled in the ballad The Mountains of Pomeroy by Dr. George Sigerson.

Sigerson (January 11, 1836 – February 17, 1925) was an Irish physician, scientist, writer, politician and poet. He studied medicine at the Queen's College, Galway, and Queen's College, Cork, and took his degree in 1859. He then went to Paris where he spent some time studying under Charcot and Duchenne at the Salpêtrière; a fellow-student was Sigmund Freud.

While a student he taught himself Irish and made the acquaintance of Charles Kickham and John O'Leary. His first book, The Poets and Poetry of Munster, appeared in 1860. He was actively involved in political journalism for many years, writing for The Nation.

Nominated for a twelve-year term, to the first Senate of the Irish Free State, Sigerson briefly served as the first chairman on 11–12 December 1922 before the election of Lord Glenavy.

In the poem/lyrics, a maid meets "her gallant Reynardine, on the mountains of Pomeroy." He is an outlaw "but keeps the flag of freedom safe." She is afraid for him. Her kinsmen would kill him. She leaves "her cruel kin and home" to go to him but drowns in a storm.

Lyrics by Dr. George Sigerson

The morn was breaking bright and fair,
The lark sang in the sky,
When the maid she bound her goIden hair,
With a blithe glance in her eye;
For, who beyond the gay green-wood,
Was a-waiting her with joy,
Oh, who but her gallant Renaldine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy.

Full often in the dawning hour,
Full oft in twilight brown
He met the maid in the woodland bow'r,
Where the stream comes foaming down
For they were faithful in a love
No wars could e'er destroy.
No tyrant's law touched Renaldine,
On the mountains of Pomeroy.

"Oh love, oh love, I'm sore afraid
For the foeman's force and you
For they'll track you in the lowland plain
And all the valley through
My kinsman frowned when you were named
Oh, your life they would destroy
'Oh beware,' they said, 'Of Renaldine
On the mountains of Pomeroy.'"

"Fear not, fear not, my love," he cries
"For the foeman's force and me
No change shall fall whate'er betide
On the arm that should be free.
Come leave your cruel kith and kin
And with your soldier flee
It's with my gun I will guard you
On the mountains of Pomeroy."

The morn has come, she arose and fled
From her cruel kin and home
And searched the wood all rosy red
And the tumbling torrent's foam
But the rain came down and the tempest roared
And did all around destroy
And a pale drowned bride met Renaldine
On the mountains of Pomeroy.