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Page 1: Irish poetry for Year 4

Ireland

in

Schools

Promotingmutualunderstandingbetween thepeoples ofBritain and Ireland throughyoung people

Liverpool Pilot Scheme

The external links – to pdf files and other PowerPoint presentations – will work only with CD-ROM versions. They have been retained in this internet version to show what is possible.

Page 2: Irish poetry for Year 4

Phil DoyleHoly Name Catholic Primary School, Liverpool

‘Ireland in Schools’ Liverpool Pilot Scheme Liverpool City Council

Irish Poetry for Year 4

Page 3: Irish poetry for Year 4

MenuNote for teachersPoems1. The Hidden Art by Gabriel Fitzmaurice2. Forty Shades of Green by Gabriel Fitzmaurice

Tasks for Poems 1 & 23. A Giant Never Dies by Gabriel Fitzmaurice4. Handwriting by Gabriel Fitzmaurice

Tasks for Poems 3 & 45. The Smugglers of Mourne by Martin Waddell

Tasks for Poem 56. Tortoise by Basil Payne7. Winter in Dublin by D. J. O’Sullivan

Tasks for Poems 6 & 78. Train Journey by R. Baker

Tasks for Poem 8Gaelic GamesBallaghbegMountains of MourneMountains of Mourne – balladMap of Ireland – counties & townsNLS Planning Sheet – pdf format

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Note for teachers

This selection of seven poems was the focus of the Literacy Hour in Year 4 during Irish Week at Holy Name Catholic Primary School, 30 June – 4 July 2003.

They were chosen for their range and for their potential for giving children a better understanding of Ireland and relations between people in Ireland and people in Britain.

The poems – and the whole week throughout the school – were a great success, enlivening teaching and learning and breathing life into the last weeks of term.

One of the poems, ‘A Giant Never Dies’, is about a hero who played both Gaelic football and hurling. The children, knowing much about the Irish soccer team, found it hard to believe that people in Ireland played such different and distinctive sports. The poem was, perhaps, the best introduction we could have had to exploring the similarities and differences between ‘the peoples of these islands’.

Using the English poem, ‘Train Journey’, on the last day of the week encouraged the children to reflect further on similarities and differences.

The NLS Planning Sheet for this selection is available in pdf format.

However, tasks on individual poems or pairs of poems are reproduced after each poem or pair of poems.

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1. The Hidden Art By

Gabriel FitzmauriceA Giant Never Dies, Poolbeg, 1-84223-009-3, p. 35

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Making a fartIs an art.

The wind that comes To your behindHas a mind of its ownAnd its mindIs set on blowingAnd the pressureKeeps on growing.

Soto make for quiet releaseYou hold it softly,Then you easeIt slowly out between your

cheeks -If you’re lucky it won't leak,and no one knowsYou’ve made a fart.

That’s why fartingIs an art.

Fitzmaurice, The Hidden Art

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2. Forty Shades of GreenBy

Gabriel FitzmauriceA Giant Never Dies, Poolbeg, 1-84223-009-3, p. 36

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In Granda’s time, he told me,They’d no toilets anywhere –They had to do their businessIn the open-airIn orchards, fields and gardensWhere they would not be seenAnd that’s the reason, and Granda

says,Why Ireland is so green.

Fitzmaurice, Forty Shades of Green

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Tasks for 1. The Hidden Art & 2. Forty Shades of Green

Whole classshared reading/writing

Whole class phonics, spelling, vocabulary & grammar

Independent group tasks Plenary

Mon What type of poems are these? (Humorous) Do they rhyme? Is the rhyme structured? Discuss number & length of stanzas. Do you like the poems. Why/not?

Change tense – ‘making’, ‘comes’, ‘growing’, ‘knows’. Make singular/plural - ‘toilets’, ‘orchards’, ‘fields’, ‘gardens’. What does this tell us about the words - verbs/nouns?

Chn to change words to identify class of words.

ReadPoemsagain &identify verbs and nouns.How didyou tell?

Braun: Change verb endings, pluralisation, add comparative endings, classify words.

Dahl: Change verb endings & add comparative endings, classify words.

KS/F: Change verb endings to classify verbs.

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3. A Giant Never Diesi.m Michael Hennessy of Moyvane and Ballyduff

ByGabriel Fitzmaurice

A Giant Never Dies, Poolbeg, 1-84223-009-3, pp 65-8

Hurling

Gaelic football

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‘I come from sweet Knockauling,John Bradley is my nameAnd I’m the king of hurlersFor hurling is my game.’

So sang young John BradleyAs he dashed from the TVHis head full of hurling,Great deeds and bravery

On that Sunday in September,All Ireland Hurling Day,The All Ireland Final over;He dashed outside to play

With a hurling stick and rubber ball,

He hurled on his own -He’d no brothers or no sistersAnd so he played alone

Whack! against the gableThen run and leap and catchRe-playing the All Ireland,Making it his match.

And then, his mind-game over,He ran in home to DadAnd they talked of hurling heroesAnd the mighty games they

played.

Dad told him of the exploitsOf Big Mick HennessyWho played football for

KnockaulingAnd hurling for Ballylee;

And how once upon a Championship

He was called to playIn the local Football FinalAnd on that selfsame day

When the football match was overHe played for BallyleeIn the County Hurling FinalIn the great Park of Tralee.

In the centre for Knockauling,He scored five points that dayAnd when the match was overHe left the field of play,

No time to celebrate and liftThe cup of victory -He dashed out to the hackney carThat would take him to TraleeAnd changed Knockauling’s coloursFor the green of Ballylee.

Just in time for the second half,His team a goal behind,Big Mick Hennessy took the fieldAnd hurled into the wind;

And when the game was overHe’d scored three goals to winAnd thousands knew they’d never seeThe likes of him again.

The time is some weeks later,The place - the Park, Tralee,The County Hurling Final,Tullybeg and Ballylee.

John Bradley and his DaddyHave travelled here this day,A treat for young John’s birthday -Eleven years today.

The game is fast and factious,And at half time they seeThe men of forty years ago,Knockane and Ballylee,

As thirty men in suits walk out,The hurlers of that dayWhen Big Mick Hennessy showed to allHow the great can play;

And as his name is called outEach man waves to the crowdAnd at the name ‘Mick Hennessy’The cheers are long and loud.

But young John Bradley’s puzzled -The man he sees out thereIs not as he imagined:With glasses, thinning hair,

To young John he looks no differentTo the other menStanding out there on the field.He realises then

That Mick Hennessy’s a storyOf a giant with a ballAnd what he sees there on the fieldIs not a giant at all.

Yes, Mick Hennessy’s a story -One that will be toldWhen Big Mick is dead and goneAnd young John Bradley’s old.

For a giant lives in storyAmong his people whoBelieve in deeds of greatnessAnd honour all that’s true.

Yes, Mick Hennessy’s our story,A giant with a ballWho once upon a ChampionshipWon glory for us all.

Fitzmaurice,

A Giant Never Dies

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‘I come from sweet Knockauling,John Bradley is my nameAnd I’m the king of hurlersFor hurling is my game.’

So sang young John BradleyAs he dashed from the TVHis head full of hurling,Great deeds and bravery

On that Sunday in September,All Ireland Hurling Day,The All Ireland Final over;He dashed outside to play

With a hurling stick and rubber ball,He hurled on his own -He’d no brothers or no sistersAnd so he played alone

Whack! against the gableThen run and leap and catchRe-playing the All Ireland,Making it his match.

And then, his mind-game over,He ran in home to DadAnd they talked of hurling heroesAnd the mighty games they played.

Dad told him of the exploitsOf Big Mick HennessyWho played football for KnockaulingAnd hurling for Ballylee;

And how once upon a ChampionshipHe was called to playIn the local Football FinalAnd on that selfsame day

Fitzmaurice, A Giant Never Dies, 1-8

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When the football match was overHe played for BallyleeIn the County Hurling FinalIn the great Park of Tralee.

In the centre for Knockauling,He scored five points that dayAnd when the match was overHe left the field of play,

No time to celebrate and liftThe cup of victory -He dashed out to the hackney carThat would take him to TraleeAnd changed Knockauling’s coloursFor the green of Ballylee.

Just in time for the second half,His team a goal behind,Big Mick Hennessy took the fieldAnd hurled into the wind;

And when the game was overHe’d scored three goals to winAnd thousands knew they’d never seeThe likes of him again.

The time is some weeks later,The place - the Park, Tralee,The County Hurling Final,Tullybeg and Ballylee.

John Bradley and his DaddyHave travelled here this day,A treat for young John’s birthday -Eleven years today.

The game is fast and factious,And at half time they seeThe men of forty years ago,Knockane and Ballylee,

Fitzmaurice, A Giant Never Dies, 9-16

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As thirty men in suits walk out,The hurlers of that dayWhen Big Mick Hennessy showed to allHow the great can play;

And as his name is called outEach man waves to the crowdAnd at the name ‘Mick Hennessy’The cheers are long and loud.

But young John Bradley’s puzzled -The man he sees out thereIs not as he imagined:With glasses, thinning hair,

To young John he looks no differentTo the other menStanding out there on the field.He realises then

That Mick Hennessy’s a storyOf a giant with a ballAnd what he sees there on the fieldIs not a giant at all.

Yes, Mick Hennessy’s a story -One that will be toldWhen Big Mick is dead and goneAnd young John Bradley’s old.

For a giant lives in storyAmong his people whoBelieve in deeds of greatnessAnd honour all that’s true.

Yes, Mick Hennessy’s our story,A giant with a ballWho once upon a ChampionshipWon glory for us all.

Fitzmaurice, A Giant Never Dies, 17-24

The watermark is a photograph of a tense All-Ireland hurley final being played in Croke Park, Dublin, in 1922 The players are waiting for the ball to be thrown in by a visiting celebrity, Michael Collins. He died shortly afterwards in an ambush by fellow Irish Republican.

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4. HandwritingBy

Gabriel FitzmauriceA Giant Never Dies, Poolbeg, 1-84223-009-3, p. 20

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When I was young, my writingWas big and fat and tallBut now I’m ten, my writingIs getting very small.

It’s fine to have big writingWhen you’re learning to write,But writing like an InfantWhen you’re ten just isn’t right.

So I hold my pencil tightlyAnd make my letters small;I think teeny writingIs the coolest kind of allThough if it gets much smallerIt won’t be seen at all!

Fitzmaurice, Handwriting

Big and fat and tall...It won’t be seen at all.

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Tasks for 3. A Giant Never Dies & 4. Handwriting

Whole classshared reading/writing

Whole class phonics, spelling, vocabulary & grammar

Independent group tasks Plenary

Tues

‘A Giant Never Dies’

What is hurling?What type of football is the poet referringto?What could wecompare to AllIreland Day?How does thepoem make youfeel?Discuss structure?

‘Handwriting’

Discussmeaningof ‘teeny’.Discussdifferentways of formingdiminutives: ette,mini-,adjectives,nouns &nicknames.

Chn to find diminutives DiscussFindingsof chn.Discussmean-ings.DiscussNick-names.

Ahlberg:Find diminutives for animals & by adding suffixes.

Dahl: Find diminutives for animals & by adding suffixes.

KS/F:Add suffixes to find diminutive.

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5. The Smugglers of Mourne

ByMartin Waddell

Longman, 0-58212-195-7

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Tom Murphy was young p. 3when his father was hung.Poor Tom! Poor Tom!They took Tom and tied himand hid him awayin a stone cellat Ballaghbeg Quay,for he was the son of the smuggler.

Nancy Bell,she loved Tom welland she came by the rockswith a key for all locksand she opened the doorand Tom got away.

Tom and brave Nancy p. 4crept away from the townto the mountains of Mourne,above the Mourne shoreand they hidand they waitedfor the dark ship to come.

They ate berries and roots p. 5and drank milk from the goatsin their small cave.

But then Ranaghan found them.p. 6

He saw Nancy Bell as she bathedin the streamand he followed her back to the cave.He knew he had foundwhere Tom Murphy was hidden.

Ranaghan ran p. 7to the Excise Manand they made a planto capture poor Tom,and Nancy as well,Tom’s brave Nancy Bell.

The moon on the Mournes p. 8was hiding awaywhen the dark shipsailed into the bay.It showed no lightand it came in the nightto rescue Tom,and his brave Nancy Bell.

The dark ship came p. 9into the coveby Green Harbour,silently, silently,in from the sea.

A light! A light! p. 10One light shining bright!Just one flash of light,flashing again,and againand then ...darkness,so no-one would see,but Tom and his brave Nancy Bell.

Ranaghan waited,p. 11

Ranaghan watched.He saw Nancy Belland Poor Tomslip out of their caveand follow the streamdown through the rocksto Green Harbour.

Ranaghan climbed on his horse p. 12and he rode,and he rode,to the Excise Man at Ballaghbeg Quay.

Alone on Mourne shore p. 13were Tom and his Nancy,Tom and his dear one,his brave Nancy Bell,and, from the ship,a boat pulled for the shore.

Muffled oars, p. 14and muffled voices.Tom and his friends on the shore,Tom and his brave Nancy Belland then ...

Dark shapes in the night. p. 15The Excise Men!The Excise Menwith their swords and their sticksran over the shore.

Such a fight p. 16in the night!It clattered and roared,red blood in the water,the smugglers at bay ...

... Tom and his brave Nancy, p. 17they got away!They dived in the wateroff Donnegan’s rockand they swam out to sea.But ...

Ranaghan saw them! p. 19And Ranaghan peeled off his glove.He loaded his pistoland fired!

Nancy Bell cried,she was hit!

Tom clung to poor Nancy p. 20and he swamand he swamto the dark ship that was waitingto take them on board,Tom and his brave Nancy Bell.

Ranaghan swore on the shore p. 21and dashed down his gloveHe was beaten!

The ship sailed away p. 23from the Mountains of Mourne.Tom stood on the deck,bathed in the bloodof his brave Nancy Bell.

Then she stirred,and she sighed,as she lay in his arms ...And Tom knewthat he’d saved Nancy Bell!

They sailed far away p. 24and they never came backto the Mountains of Mournewhere they’d hidden alone,Tom and his love,his brave Nancy Bell.

Waddell, The Smugglers of Mourne

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Tom Murphy was young p. 3when his father was hung.Poor Tom! Poor Tom!They took Tom and tied himand hid him awayin a stone cellat Ballaghbeg Quay,for he was the son of the smuggler.

Nancy Bell,she loved Tom welland she came by the rockswith a key for all locksand she opened the doorand Tom got away.

Tom and brave Nancy p. 4crept away from the townto the mountains of Mourne,above the Mourne shoreand they hidand they waitedfor the dark ship to come.

They ate berries and roots p. 5and drank milk from the goatsin their small cave.

But then Ranaghan found them. p. 6He saw Nancy Bell as she bathedin the streamand he followed her back to the cave.He knew he had foundwhere Tom Murphy was hidden.

Ranaghan ran p. 7to the Excise Manand they made a planto capture poor Tom,and Nancy as well,Tom’s brave Nancy Bell.

Waddell, The Smugglers of Mourne, pp 3-7

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The moon on the Mournes p. 8was hiding awaywhen the dark shipsailed into the bay.It showed no lightand it came in the nightto rescue Tom,and his brave Nancy Bell.

The dark ship camep. 9

into the coveby Green Harbour,silently, silently,in from the sea.

A light! A light! p. 10One light shining bright!Just one flash of light,flashing again,and againand then ...darkness,so no-one would see,but Tom and his brave Nancy Bell.

Ranaghan waited,p. 11

Ranaghan watched.He saw Nancy Belland Poor Tomslip out of their caveand follow the streamdown through the rocksto Green Harbour.

Ranaghan climbed on his horse p. 12and he rode,and he rode,to the Excise Man at Ballaghbeg Quay.

Waddell, The Smugglers of Mourne, pp 8-11

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Alone on Mourne shore p. 13were Tom and his Nancy,Tom and his dear one,his brave Nancy Bell,and, from the ship,a boat pulled for the shore.

Muffled oars, p. 14and muffled voices.Tom and his friends on the shore,Tom and his brave Nancy Belland then ...

Dark shapes in the night. p. 15The Excise Men!The Excise Menwith their swords and their sticksran over the shore.

Such a fight p. 16in the night!It clattered and roared,red blood in the water,the smugglers at bay ...

... Tom and his brave Nancy, p. 17they got away!They dived in the wateroff Donnegan’s rockand they swam out to sea.But ...

Ranaghan saw them! p. 19And Ranaghan peeled off his glove.He loaded his pistoland fired!

Nancy Bell cried,she was hit!

Waddell, The Smugglers of Mourne, pp 13-19

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Tom clung to poor Nancy p. 20and he swamand he swamto the dark ship that was waitingto take them on board,Tom and his brave Nancy Bell.

Ranaghan swore on the shore p. 21and dashed down his gloveHe was beaten!

The ship sailed away p. 23from the Mountains of Mourne.Tom stood on the deck,bathed in the bloodof his brave Nancy Bell.

Then she stirred,and she sighed,as she lay in his arms ...And Tom knewthat he’d saved Nancy Bell!

They sailed far away p. 24and they never came backto the Mountains of Mournewhere they’d hidden alone,Tom and his love,his brave Nancy Bell.

Waddell, The Smugglers of Mourne, pp 20-24

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Tasks for 5. The Smugglers of Mourne – Guided group task (writing/reading)

Monday Ahlberg:

TuesdayBrowne:

Wednesday Dahl:

ThursdayFine:

Friday King-Smith:

How does theauthor create aneerieatmosphere? How is the effectcreated on p.16?How does theauthor usepunctuation onpp 14-16 tocreate an effect? Can you think ofA newspaperheadline todescribe thestory?

How would youdescribe theatmosphere ofthe story? How does theauthor createthis?What is anexciseman/smuggler? What strategiescould be used tofind outmeaning?

How do you think Tom/Nancy feel at different stages of the story?Can you find examples of rhyme in the story?How can we tell Tom & Nancy love each other?

How does the story make you feel?Re-tell the story from Ranaghan’s point of view. Why might he be after Tom?Think of adjectives to describe Tom/Nancy.

How does the story make you feel?Look at the picture of Ranaghan onp. 21.What adjectives would describe him? Look at word ‘light’ on p. 10. What other words could you use in its place?

Click here to see how other schools have used this text – pdf format

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6. Tortoise By

Basil PayneThe Poolbeg Book of Irish Poetry for Children, coll. S. Traynor, Poolbeg, 1-85371-726-6, pp 92-5

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I hada pet tortoiseoha pettortoiselikenobody else’s (nobodyelseIknewhada pettortoise).His headwas hardas barkhis neck(underneath)soft asa trickfountain-pensnake’shis eyes

bird-bright.I lacqueredhis shellto keepit fresh.He likedfresh lettuceate itvoraciouslygallivanting roundthe gardenmore likea hare thana tortoise.By nightI kept himina shed.If Iforgotmaggotscrawlednext morninginsidehis shell

(I pickedthem outwith amatch-stick).In winterhe hiber-natedin aboxinourCoal-shedbeside ablack heapof topqualityEnglishcoal.Thatwas hisundoing.One morningin FebruaryI foundhim

quitedeadundertwo chunksof it.A pre-fabtortoise-backedtortoise-slacktomb.I buried himcriedliedto myselfNo more pets.Next yearI boughta goldfishthe nexta budgiethe nexta hamster- all threeare sincedead.

Pets(any morethan people)are notfor keeps.

Beekeepersyes gamekeeperspark-keepers evenare aptlynamedbird-fanciersgreyhound-breedershorse-ownerscat-loversfalconers eve- but whoever heardof atortoisekeeper?

Payne, Tortoise

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7. Winter in Dublin By

D. J. O’SullivanThe Wolfhound Book of Irish Poems for Young People, ed. B. Quinn et al., Poolbeg, 1-85371-726-6, p. 127

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O’Sullivan, Winter in Dublin

‘Dublin has a very brisky and cold average temperature.Travelling to Dublin in the summer, temperatures will be around 17oC (63oF).If you spend the winter in Dublin, you will feel colder temperatures at 5oC (41oF).’

American travel guide

Wild winter-rain comes plashing downTurning the grey street jetty-brown;Two cyclists skid, pedestrians rush,Traffic policemen curse the slush.

On lamp-posts now few sparrows talk,On roof-tops now less pigeons walk;Only the Liffey sings a songAnd gelid hail that hops along.

No shadow neath the Pillar lies,Wind-drownéd are the newsboys’ cries,Gaunt and bare all the kerb trees stand,Each tramway pole’s a glinting wand.

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Tasks for 6. Tortoise & 7. Winter in Dublin * = Shared write

Whole classshared reading/writing

Whole class phonics, spelling, vocabulary & grammar

Independent group tasks Plenary

Wed ‘Tortoise’

What type of poem isit? (Thin)Are ‘voracious’ &‘gallivanting’words associated withtortoises?Why does he use them?Why does he split‘hibernated’?

Add -ing, -es,-ed to words.Do theymake sense?What does thistell us aboutthis class ofwords?

‘Winter in Dublin’

Give chn copy of poem without title.Chn work in mixed ability pairs toanswer questions:What type of poem is it?In what season is the poem set?Where is it set - reference to Liffeygives a clue (use atlas)? Can you think of a title?

Read ‘Winterin Dublin’together.How does theriver sing?What type ofplace do youthink Dublin is?

Thur*

Chn to suggestideas - teacher toscribe. Write athin poem in thestyle of BasilPayne.Choose a pet towrite about.

Identifyadjectives,verbs andnouns as wewrite poem bychangingendings ofwords.

Chn to work in mixed ability groupsto write a thin poem based on a pet.Leave notes & poem from shared write on board as a guide to chn.Chn to type poems & print.

Ask groups toread poems.Show poems toascertain if theyare thin.

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8. Train Journey In

Developing Literacy Skills. Year 4 Poetry, by R. Barker, A & C Black, 0-71365-872-X, p. 34

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This is theNine-fifteenNorthern Spirit train:Newcastle,Sunderland,Darlington and York,Durham andHuddersfield,Manchester and Leeds,WarringtonAnd RuncornLiverpool at last.

Barker, Train Journey

Northern Spirit train standing at York Station

08.35 Sligo to Dublin Connolly Station arriving at Edgeworthstown

?English trains cannot run in Ireland. Can you see whyby comparing the photographs? Click here to find out more.

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Tasks for 8. Train Journey * = Shared write

Whole classshared reading/writing

Whole class phonics, spelling, vocabulary & grammar

Independent group tasks Plenary

Fri* Read list poem of train journey. Discuss what poem is about. Identify syllable pattern.Why does it have this pattern. Clap out syllables to replicate sound of train moving.

Discuss spelling rule in English, each syllable must have a vowel.

Chn copy poem but replace names of English towns & cities with Irish places with the same number of syllabuses.

Ask chnto readpoems.DoesswappingIrishplacenamesaddanythingto thepoem?

A & B:

Use atlas/map to find Irish place names with approximate number of syllabuses.

Dahl:Provide list of Irish names to choose from.

Five:Give names of places with approximate number of syllables.

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Gaelic games 1 - hurling• Hurling is Ireland’s national game and the fastest field sport in the world.

• It is played by teams of 15 men a side with a ball and sticks.

• It can be dated back over 2,000 years in the annals of the Celts.

• Irish folklore is rich with references to the game, with the Irish superhero Cúchulainn being its most famous competitor.

• By the sixteenth century a law was passed that forbade the tumultuous ‘hurling of the little ball with hooked sticks or staves’. This, however, did not banish, the game in Ireland and since the founding of the Gaelic Athletic Association in 1884 the sport has continued to gain in popularity, both nationally and internationally.

• A very physical game, hurling has been called ‘the blood-and-bandages game’.

• Hurling is played on a pitch usually 137m/150yd long and 82m/90yd wide. The object is to drive the sliotar (ball), 25cm/10in in circumference, through erect posts at opposite ends of the pitch. Each player uses a wooden hurley or caman, usually 1.07 m/3.5ft long, to propel the sliotar around the playing area.

• The erect goalposts stand 6.4m/21ft apart and are usually about 6.4 m/21 ft high. There is a crossbar 2.4m/8ft from the ground. Hitting the ball over the crossbar scores a point and a shot under scores a goal.

• The All-Ireland Hurling Championships are played annually between teams representing the Irish counties; the final is played at Croke Park, Dublin, in front of crowds of over 60,000.

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Gaelic games 2 – Gaelic football

• Gaelic football is a kicking and catching game played mainly in Ireland. Its rules are a mixture of soccer and rugby. Despite sporadic attempts to take the game to Irish communities in other parts of the world, Gaelic football is rarely played outside Ireland.

• The two teams have 15 players each. The game is played on field with an inflated spherical ball. The goalposts have a cross bar and a net across the lower half. Goals are scored by kicking the ball into the net (three points) or over the crossbar (one point).

• First played in 1712, it is one of the sports under the auspices of the Gaelic Athletic Association. The leading tournament is the All-Ireland Championship (first held in 1887). Its final is played in Croke Park, Dublin, on the third Sunday in September each year. The winner receives the Sam Maguire Trophy.

• Although seen as the poor relation to hurling, Gaelic football has nonetheless produced many memorable contests and teams.

• One team that dominated almost from the start of organised competitions in 1884 was the Kerry side. Until the mid-1980s, this side proved almost invincible. They managed to win All-Ireland titles in each decade, starting with their first in 1903.

• There was great rivalry between Kerry and Dublin from the 1970s. Their All-Ireland semi-final clash in 1977 is generally regarded as among the greatest games ever seen at Croke Park.

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Two wicked eyes glittered in the shadows - it was Culann’s dog, half hound, half wolf! Setanta gripped his hurley. Wild thoughts tumbled through his head. He knew that the dog would eat him alive. There was only one chance ...

As the dog hurled towards him, eyes raging, mouth snarling, Setanta took careful aim - and rammed the ball down the hound's gaping throat. With a fearful screech, the dog crashed to the ground. Choking and gasping he tried to cough up the ball, but it was firmly stuck. With one last mighty shudder, he tossed his head and died.

The door crashed open. Culann and King Conor had heard the dog's wild cries....

‘I am sorry I had to kill your dog,’ he said. ‘But if you will let me, I will be your hound. I will guard your home with my life.’

King Conor and Culann agreed. Soon Setanta had another name. He was called Cúchulainn, which means Culann's hound. This was his name, ever after, when he became the best and most famous warrior of the Red Branch Knights.

Irish Fairy Tales & Legends by Una Leavy, O’Brien Press, 0-86278-482-4, pp 14-15

How Cúchulainn got his name

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Ballaghbeg

• The counties of Ireland, north and south, are divided into parishes. The parishes are, in turn, divided into townlands.

• Ballaghbeg is one of the seventeen townlands which make up the parish of Kilcoo in County Down.

• The townland of Ballaghbeg is near Newcastle and borders Dundrum Bay in the Irish Sea.

• On the right is a view of the Mourne Mountains from Dundrum Bay, much like that Tom and Nancy would have had.

IRISH SEA

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Parish of Kilcoo in County Down

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The Mountains of Mourne

• The Mountains of Mourne are a mountain range in County Down in Northern Ireland.

• They extend from Newcastle to Carlingford Lough.

• The highest summit is Slieve Donard – height 852m/2,795ft.

• The mountains are made of granite, a speckled rock – black, white and grey - with different minerals in it.

• It is used in buildings, kerbstones and gravestones.

• There is a famous ballad about these mountains

Page 40: Irish poetry for Year 4

Oh, Mary, this London's a wonderful sightWith people here working by day and by nightThey don't sow potatoes, nor barley nor wheatBut there' gangs of them digging for gold in the streetsAt least when I asked them that's what I was toldSo I just took a hand at this diggin' for goldBut for all that I found there I might as well beWhere the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I believe that when writin' a wish you expressedAs to how the fine ladies in London were dressedWell, if you believe me, when asked to a ballFaith, they don't wear no top to their dresses at all.Oh, I've seen them myself and you could not in trathSay if they were bound for a ball or a bathDon't be startin' them fashions now, Mary Macree,Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

I've seen England's king from the top of a busAnd I've never known him, but he means to know us.And tho' by the Saxon we once were oppressed,Still I cheered, God forgive me, I cheered with the rest.And now that he's visited Erin's green shoreWe'll be much better friends than we've been heretoforeWhen we've got all we want, we're as quiet as can beWhere the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

You remember young Peter O’Loughlin, of courseWell, now he is here at the head of the forceI met him today, I was crossing the StrandAnd he stopped the whole street with a wave of his handAnd there we stood talkin' of days that are goneWhile the whole population of London looked onBut for all these great powers he's wishful like meTo be back where the dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.

There's beautiful girls here, oh, never you mindWith beautiful shapes nature never designedAnd lovely complexions all roses and creamBut O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the sameThat if at those roses you venture to sipThe colours might all come away on your lipSo I'll wait for the wild rose that's waitin' for meWhere the Mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea.

The Mountains of Mourne – a ballad by Percy French (1854-1920)

Click here for musical score

Page 41: Irish poetry for Year 4

The Songs of Percy French ed. James Healey Ossian, 1-90042-825-3. p. 31

Page 42: Irish poetry for Year 4

Did you know?English trains cannot run on Irish tracks.

Irish trains cannot run on English tracks.

They would not fit.

Irish tracks are 5ft 3ins wide.

English tracks are 4ft 81/2in wide.

The wider Irish gauge was the result of a compromise.

Some early railway pioneers in the north of Ireland chose a 6ft gauge instead of 4ft 81/2in, which was the law.

There was a row and the government intervened and set up a committee to examine the situation.

The committee decided that the standard gauge in Ireland should be a comprise between the two gauges, that is 5ft 3in.

Nobody seems to know why the committee did not insist on 4ft 81/2in, which was, after all, the law.

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Page 43: Irish poetry for Year 4

Map of Ireland – counties & towns


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