CAROLINE, LADY NAIRNE1766-1845
1766-1845
I’m wearin’ awa’, John,Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John,I’m wearin’ awa’To the land o’ the leal.There’s nae sorrow there, John:There’s neither cauld nor care, John,The day is aye fairIn the land o’ the leal.Our bonnie bairn’s there, John;She was baith guid and fair, John;And, oh! we grudged her sairTo the land o’ the leal.But sorrow’s sel’ wears past, John,And joy’s a-comin’ fast, John,The joy that’s aye to lastIn the land o’ the leal.Sae dear that joy was bought, John,Sae free the battle fought, John,That sinfu’ man e’er broughtTo the land o’ the leal.O dry your glistening e’e, John!My saul langs to be free, John,And angels beckon meTo the land o’ the leal.O haud ye leal and true, John;Your day it’s wearin’ through, John,And I’ll welcome youTo the land o’ the leal.Now fareyeweel, my ain John:This warld’s cares are vain, John;We’ll meet, and we’ll be fain,In the land o’ the leal.
I’m wearin’ awa’, John,Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John,I’m wearin’ awa’To the land o’ the leal.There’s nae sorrow there, John:There’s neither cauld nor care, John,The day is aye fairIn the land o’ the leal.Our bonnie bairn’s there, John;She was baith guid and fair, John;And, oh! we grudged her sairTo the land o’ the leal.But sorrow’s sel’ wears past, John,And joy’s a-comin’ fast, John,The joy that’s aye to lastIn the land o’ the leal.Sae dear that joy was bought, John,Sae free the battle fought, John,That sinfu’ man e’er broughtTo the land o’ the leal.O dry your glistening e’e, John!My saul langs to be free, John,And angels beckon meTo the land o’ the leal.O haud ye leal and true, John;Your day it’s wearin’ through, John,And I’ll welcome youTo the land o’ the leal.Now fareyeweel, my ain John:This warld’s cares are vain, John;We’ll meet, and we’ll be fain,In the land o’ the leal.
I’m wearin’ awa’, John,Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John,I’m wearin’ awa’To the land o’ the leal.There’s nae sorrow there, John:There’s neither cauld nor care, John,The day is aye fairIn the land o’ the leal.
I’m wearin’ awa’, John,
Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John,
I’m wearin’ awa’
To the land o’ the leal.
There’s nae sorrow there, John:
There’s neither cauld nor care, John,
The day is aye fair
In the land o’ the leal.
Our bonnie bairn’s there, John;She was baith guid and fair, John;And, oh! we grudged her sairTo the land o’ the leal.But sorrow’s sel’ wears past, John,And joy’s a-comin’ fast, John,The joy that’s aye to lastIn the land o’ the leal.
Our bonnie bairn’s there, John;
She was baith guid and fair, John;
And, oh! we grudged her sair
To the land o’ the leal.
But sorrow’s sel’ wears past, John,
And joy’s a-comin’ fast, John,
The joy that’s aye to last
In the land o’ the leal.
Sae dear that joy was bought, John,Sae free the battle fought, John,That sinfu’ man e’er broughtTo the land o’ the leal.O dry your glistening e’e, John!My saul langs to be free, John,And angels beckon meTo the land o’ the leal.
Sae dear that joy was bought, John,
Sae free the battle fought, John,
That sinfu’ man e’er brought
To the land o’ the leal.
O dry your glistening e’e, John!
My saul langs to be free, John,
And angels beckon me
To the land o’ the leal.
O haud ye leal and true, John;Your day it’s wearin’ through, John,And I’ll welcome youTo the land o’ the leal.Now fareyeweel, my ain John:This warld’s cares are vain, John;We’ll meet, and we’ll be fain,In the land o’ the leal.
O haud ye leal and true, John;
Your day it’s wearin’ through, John,
And I’ll welcome you
To the land o’ the leal.
Now fareyeweel, my ain John:
This warld’s cares are vain, John;
We’ll meet, and we’ll be fain,
In the land o’ the leal.
Oh, the auld house, the auld houseWhat though the rooms were wee?Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there,And bairnies fu’ o’ glee!The wild rose and the jessamineStill hang upon the wa’—How mony cherished memoriesDo they, sweet flowers, reca’!Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird,Sae canty, kind, and crouse!How mony did he welcome toHis ain wee dear auld house!And the leddy, too, sae genty,There sheltered Scotland’s heir,And clipt a lock wi’ her ain handFrae his lang yellow hair.The mavis still doth sweetly sing,The blue-bells sweetly blaw;The bonnie Earn’s clear winding still,But the auld house is awa’.The auld house, the auld house!Deserted though ye be,There ne’er can be a new houseWill seem sae fair to me.Still flourishing the auld pear tree,The bairnies liked to see;And oh, how aften did they speirWhen ripe they a’ wad be!The voices sweet, the wee bit feetAye rinnin’ here and there;The merry shout—oh! whiles we greetTo think we’ll hear nae mair.For they are a’ wide scattered now,Some to the Indies gane,And ane, alas! to her lang hame;Not here we’ll meet again.The Kirkyaird! the Kirkyaird!Wi’ flowers o’ every hue,Sheltered by the holly’s shade,An’ the dark sombre yew.The setting sun, the setting sun,How glorious it gaed doun!The cloudy splendour raised our heartsTo cloudless skies abune!The auld dial, the auld dial!It tauld how time did pass:The wintry winds ha’e dung it doun,Now hid ’mang weeds and grass.
Oh, the auld house, the auld houseWhat though the rooms were wee?Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there,And bairnies fu’ o’ glee!The wild rose and the jessamineStill hang upon the wa’—How mony cherished memoriesDo they, sweet flowers, reca’!Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird,Sae canty, kind, and crouse!How mony did he welcome toHis ain wee dear auld house!And the leddy, too, sae genty,There sheltered Scotland’s heir,And clipt a lock wi’ her ain handFrae his lang yellow hair.The mavis still doth sweetly sing,The blue-bells sweetly blaw;The bonnie Earn’s clear winding still,But the auld house is awa’.The auld house, the auld house!Deserted though ye be,There ne’er can be a new houseWill seem sae fair to me.Still flourishing the auld pear tree,The bairnies liked to see;And oh, how aften did they speirWhen ripe they a’ wad be!The voices sweet, the wee bit feetAye rinnin’ here and there;The merry shout—oh! whiles we greetTo think we’ll hear nae mair.For they are a’ wide scattered now,Some to the Indies gane,And ane, alas! to her lang hame;Not here we’ll meet again.The Kirkyaird! the Kirkyaird!Wi’ flowers o’ every hue,Sheltered by the holly’s shade,An’ the dark sombre yew.The setting sun, the setting sun,How glorious it gaed doun!The cloudy splendour raised our heartsTo cloudless skies abune!The auld dial, the auld dial!It tauld how time did pass:The wintry winds ha’e dung it doun,Now hid ’mang weeds and grass.
Oh, the auld house, the auld houseWhat though the rooms were wee?Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there,And bairnies fu’ o’ glee!The wild rose and the jessamineStill hang upon the wa’—How mony cherished memoriesDo they, sweet flowers, reca’!
Oh, the auld house, the auld house
What though the rooms were wee?
Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there,
And bairnies fu’ o’ glee!
The wild rose and the jessamine
Still hang upon the wa’—
How mony cherished memories
Do they, sweet flowers, reca’!
Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird,Sae canty, kind, and crouse!How mony did he welcome toHis ain wee dear auld house!And the leddy, too, sae genty,There sheltered Scotland’s heir,And clipt a lock wi’ her ain handFrae his lang yellow hair.
Oh, the auld laird, the auld laird,
Sae canty, kind, and crouse!
How mony did he welcome to
His ain wee dear auld house!
And the leddy, too, sae genty,
There sheltered Scotland’s heir,
And clipt a lock wi’ her ain hand
Frae his lang yellow hair.
The mavis still doth sweetly sing,The blue-bells sweetly blaw;The bonnie Earn’s clear winding still,But the auld house is awa’.The auld house, the auld house!Deserted though ye be,There ne’er can be a new houseWill seem sae fair to me.
The mavis still doth sweetly sing,
The blue-bells sweetly blaw;
The bonnie Earn’s clear winding still,
But the auld house is awa’.
The auld house, the auld house!
Deserted though ye be,
There ne’er can be a new house
Will seem sae fair to me.
Still flourishing the auld pear tree,The bairnies liked to see;And oh, how aften did they speirWhen ripe they a’ wad be!The voices sweet, the wee bit feetAye rinnin’ here and there;The merry shout—oh! whiles we greetTo think we’ll hear nae mair.
Still flourishing the auld pear tree,
The bairnies liked to see;
And oh, how aften did they speir
When ripe they a’ wad be!
The voices sweet, the wee bit feet
Aye rinnin’ here and there;
The merry shout—oh! whiles we greet
To think we’ll hear nae mair.
For they are a’ wide scattered now,Some to the Indies gane,And ane, alas! to her lang hame;Not here we’ll meet again.The Kirkyaird! the Kirkyaird!Wi’ flowers o’ every hue,Sheltered by the holly’s shade,An’ the dark sombre yew.
For they are a’ wide scattered now,
Some to the Indies gane,
And ane, alas! to her lang hame;
Not here we’ll meet again.
The Kirkyaird! the Kirkyaird!
Wi’ flowers o’ every hue,
Sheltered by the holly’s shade,
An’ the dark sombre yew.
The setting sun, the setting sun,How glorious it gaed doun!The cloudy splendour raised our heartsTo cloudless skies abune!The auld dial, the auld dial!It tauld how time did pass:The wintry winds ha’e dung it doun,Now hid ’mang weeds and grass.
The setting sun, the setting sun,
How glorious it gaed doun!
The cloudy splendour raised our hearts
To cloudless skies abune!
The auld dial, the auld dial!
It tauld how time did pass:
The wintry winds ha’e dung it doun,
Now hid ’mang weeds and grass.
Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?They’re bonnie fish and halesome farin’:Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’,New drawn frae the Forth?When ye were sleepin’ on your pillows,Dreamed ye aught o’ our puir fellowsDarkling as they faced the billows,A’ to fill the woven willows?Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?They’re no brought here without brave darin’,Buy my caller herrin’,Hauled through wind and rain.Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?Oh, ye may ca’ them vulgar farin’;Wives and mithers, ’maist despairin’,Ca’ them lives o’ men.When the creel o’ herrin’ passes,Ladies, clad in silks and laces,Gather in their braw pelisses,Cast their heads, and screw their faces.Caller herrin’s no got lightly;Ye can trip the spring fu’ tightly;Spite o’ tauntin’, flauntin’, flingin’,Gow[3]has set you a’ a-singin’.Neebour wives, now tent my tellin’When the bonnie fish ye’re sellin’,At ae word be in your dealin’,Truth will stand when a’ thing’s failin’.
Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?They’re bonnie fish and halesome farin’:Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’,New drawn frae the Forth?When ye were sleepin’ on your pillows,Dreamed ye aught o’ our puir fellowsDarkling as they faced the billows,A’ to fill the woven willows?Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?They’re no brought here without brave darin’,Buy my caller herrin’,Hauled through wind and rain.Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?Oh, ye may ca’ them vulgar farin’;Wives and mithers, ’maist despairin’,Ca’ them lives o’ men.When the creel o’ herrin’ passes,Ladies, clad in silks and laces,Gather in their braw pelisses,Cast their heads, and screw their faces.Caller herrin’s no got lightly;Ye can trip the spring fu’ tightly;Spite o’ tauntin’, flauntin’, flingin’,Gow[3]has set you a’ a-singin’.Neebour wives, now tent my tellin’When the bonnie fish ye’re sellin’,At ae word be in your dealin’,Truth will stand when a’ thing’s failin’.
Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?They’re bonnie fish and halesome farin’:Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’,New drawn frae the Forth?
Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?
They’re bonnie fish and halesome farin’:
Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’,
New drawn frae the Forth?
When ye were sleepin’ on your pillows,Dreamed ye aught o’ our puir fellowsDarkling as they faced the billows,A’ to fill the woven willows?
When ye were sleepin’ on your pillows,
Dreamed ye aught o’ our puir fellows
Darkling as they faced the billows,
A’ to fill the woven willows?
Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?They’re no brought here without brave darin’,Buy my caller herrin’,Hauled through wind and rain.
Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?
They’re no brought here without brave darin’,
Buy my caller herrin’,
Hauled through wind and rain.
Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?Oh, ye may ca’ them vulgar farin’;Wives and mithers, ’maist despairin’,Ca’ them lives o’ men.
Wha’ll buy my caller herrin’?
Oh, ye may ca’ them vulgar farin’;
Wives and mithers, ’maist despairin’,
Ca’ them lives o’ men.
When the creel o’ herrin’ passes,Ladies, clad in silks and laces,Gather in their braw pelisses,Cast their heads, and screw their faces.
When the creel o’ herrin’ passes,
Ladies, clad in silks and laces,
Gather in their braw pelisses,
Cast their heads, and screw their faces.
Caller herrin’s no got lightly;Ye can trip the spring fu’ tightly;Spite o’ tauntin’, flauntin’, flingin’,Gow[3]has set you a’ a-singin’.
Caller herrin’s no got lightly;
Ye can trip the spring fu’ tightly;
Spite o’ tauntin’, flauntin’, flingin’,
Gow[3]has set you a’ a-singin’.
Neebour wives, now tent my tellin’When the bonnie fish ye’re sellin’,At ae word be in your dealin’,Truth will stand when a’ thing’s failin’.
Neebour wives, now tent my tellin’
When the bonnie fish ye’re sellin’,
At ae word be in your dealin’,
Truth will stand when a’ thing’s failin’.
FOOTNOTES[3]A famous fiddler.
[3]A famous fiddler.
[3]A famous fiddler.
Would you be young again?So would not I—One tear to memory giv’n,Onward I’d hie.Life’s dark flood forded o’er,All but at rest on shore,Say, would you plunge once more,With home so nigh?If you might, would you nowRetrace your way?Wander through thorny wilds,Faint and astray?Night’s gloomy watches fled,Morning all beaming red,Hope’s smiles around us shed,Heavenward—away.Where are they gone, of yoreMy best delight?Dear and more dear, tho’ nowHidden from sight.Where they rejoice to be,There is the land for me;Fly time—fly speedily!Come, life and light.
Would you be young again?So would not I—One tear to memory giv’n,Onward I’d hie.Life’s dark flood forded o’er,All but at rest on shore,Say, would you plunge once more,With home so nigh?If you might, would you nowRetrace your way?Wander through thorny wilds,Faint and astray?Night’s gloomy watches fled,Morning all beaming red,Hope’s smiles around us shed,Heavenward—away.Where are they gone, of yoreMy best delight?Dear and more dear, tho’ nowHidden from sight.Where they rejoice to be,There is the land for me;Fly time—fly speedily!Come, life and light.
Would you be young again?So would not I—One tear to memory giv’n,Onward I’d hie.Life’s dark flood forded o’er,All but at rest on shore,Say, would you plunge once more,With home so nigh?
Would you be young again?
So would not I—
One tear to memory giv’n,
Onward I’d hie.
Life’s dark flood forded o’er,
All but at rest on shore,
Say, would you plunge once more,
With home so nigh?
If you might, would you nowRetrace your way?Wander through thorny wilds,Faint and astray?Night’s gloomy watches fled,Morning all beaming red,Hope’s smiles around us shed,Heavenward—away.
If you might, would you now
Retrace your way?
Wander through thorny wilds,
Faint and astray?
Night’s gloomy watches fled,
Morning all beaming red,
Hope’s smiles around us shed,
Heavenward—away.
Where are they gone, of yoreMy best delight?Dear and more dear, tho’ nowHidden from sight.Where they rejoice to be,There is the land for me;Fly time—fly speedily!Come, life and light.
Where are they gone, of yore
My best delight?
Dear and more dear, tho’ now
Hidden from sight.
Where they rejoice to be,
There is the land for me;
Fly time—fly speedily!
Come, life and light.