The Tannahill Weavers - The Scottish Settler's Lament | Текст песни

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• The Tannahill Weavers
• The Scottish Settler's Lament

THE SCARBOROUGH SETTLER'S LAMENT

(Words: Sandy Glendenning, c.1870. Tune: William Marshall, c.1781)

Away wi' Canada's muddy creeks and Canada's fields of pine!
Your land of wheat is a goodly land, but ah! it isna mine!
The heathy hill, the grassy dale, the daisy-spangled lea,
The purling burn and craggy linn, auld Scotia's glens, gie me.

Oh, I wad like to hear again the lark on Tinny's hill,
And see the wee bit gowany that blooms beside the rill.
Like banished Swiss who views afar his Alps with longing e'e,
I gaze upon the morning star that shines on my countie.

Nae mair I'll win by Eskdale Pen, or Pentland's craggy cone;
The days can ne'er come back again of thirty years that's gone,
But fancy oft at midnight hour will steal across the sea:
Yestreen amid a pleasant dream I saw the auld countrie.

Each well-known scene that met my view brought childhood's joys to mind,
The blackbird sang on Tushy linn the song he sang lang syne,
But like a dream time flies away, again the morning came,
And I awoke in Canada, three thousand miles 'frae hame'.