Alexander Anderson

1845-1909 / Scotland

Fareweel To My Hame

Fareweel to my hame at the fit o' the glen,
To the red rowan tree hingin' owre at the en',
To the burnie near by, that, wi' saft, happy sang,
Made it heaven to me when the simmer was lang.
What though I may rove to far lan's that are fine,
They canna bring back ae sweet glint o' langsyne;
The lintie that sings when the sunshine is braw
Is dearer, an' better, an' sweeter than a'.
The sky may be bricht, an' nae clud may be seen,
An' richer the fields an' far deeper the green;
But the grey licht o' hame is the licht I wad see,
An' the coo o' the cushies are sweeter to me.
My father and mother are baith lyin' still
In the quate auld kirkyaird on the tap o' the hill;
They sleep free frae cares that ha'e now flown awa',
Oh! sair is my heart—yet fareweel to them a'.
Though I maunna come back, yet in dreams o' the nicht
I will still see their graves lyin' warm in the licht,
An' dear will they be in the sunshine or rain,
As things that I never may look on again.
Fareweel to my hame at the fit o' the glen,
To the burnies an' wuds, an' to a' that I ken;
My heart grows fu' sair, an' the sad tears doon fa',
For noo I maun tak' fond fareweel o' them a'.
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