The Rose of Tralee
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The Rose of Tralee is a nineteenth century Irish ballad that recounts the story of a woman called Mary, who because of her beauty was called 'The Rose of Tralee'. The song was written by William Pembroke Mulchinock about Mary O'Connor, a maid in service to his parents. Fact or fiction, it tells of an unrequited romance between a wealthy Protestant man and a poor Catholic girl.
An international competition called The Rose of Tralee is now held annually at the end of August in Tralee, County Kerry, to find a woman who is crowned that year's Rose. Irish emigrant communities from around the world and some Irish counties and some towns select a young woman between the ages of 18 and 25 called a Rose to represent them at the contest. The contest, which is broadcast over two nights by Radio Telifís Éireann, will be presented by Ray D'Arcy in 2005. It was previously presented for over twenty years by Gay Byrne. Other previous presenters include Ryan Tubridy, Marty Whelan and Derek Davis.
The competition started in 1959. A group of local businessmen meet in Harty's bar in Tralee to come up with ideas to encourage more tourists to come to the town during the horse racing meeting. Led by the late Dan Nolan, managing director of the Kerryman newspaper, they hit on the idea of the Rose of Tralee Festival.
The Rose is the woman deemed to best match the attributes relayed in the song. Unlike traditional beauty pageants, there is no swimwear section in the Rose of Tralee contest.
Lyrics
- The pale moon was rising above the green mountains,
- The sun was declining beneath the blue sea;
- When I strayed with my love by the pure crystal fountain,
- That stands in the beautiful Vale of Tralee.
- She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
- Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
- Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
- that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
- The cool shades of evening their mantle were spreading,
- And Mary all smiling was listening to me;
- The moon through the valley her pale rays was shedding,
- When I won the heart of the Rose of Tralee.
- Though lovely and fair as the Rose of the summer,
- Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
- Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
- that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
- In the far fields of India, 'mid wars dreadful thunders,
- Her voice was a solace and comfort to me,
- But the chill hand of death has now rent us asunder,
- I'm lonely tonight for the Rose of Tralee.
- She was lovely and fair as the rose of the summer,
- Yet 'twas not her beauty alone that won me;
- Oh no, 'twas the truth in her eyes ever dawning,
- that made me love Mary, the Rose of Tralee.
External link
- Official site - Rose of Tralee (http://www.roseoftralee.ie/)