Leethwork by Robert Tannahill, other unwist leethers
New wording and oversetting by William Hurst and Hurlebatte
Farewell to thee, New Scotland, the seabound shore,
Let your barrows dark and dreary be.
When I am far away on the briny tossed,
will you ever heave a sigh or a wish for me?
The sun was setting in the west,
The birds were singing on every tree.
All of wilderness seemed to rest,
But alas, there was to be no rest for me!
I to leave my home,
I gnorn to leave my few,
My whom I hold so dear,
And the lovely, lovely lassie who has me inthewed.
The cannons drum and shake stalworth sons,
Yet the shiplord calls, and we must take heed.
Farewell, farewell, to fair New Scotland's gales,
For the cast us up and from your warmth we're freed.
I have three brothers and they are at rest,
Their arms are folded in their chest.
But a but like me,
Must be flung and on the deep dark sea.