The Scottish Settler's Lament

Awa' wi' Canada's muddy creeks and Canada's fields of pine

This land of wheat's a goodly land, but oh, it is not mine

The heathy hill, the grassy dale, the daisy-spangled lea

The purling burn and craggy linn old Scotland's glens give me

Oh I would like tae hear again the lark on Tinnie's hill

Or see the wee bit gowanie 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 country

No more I'll win by Eskdale Glen or Pentland's craggy combe

Those days can ne'er come back again of thirty years that's gone

But fancy oft ae midnight hour will steal across the sea

And yester eve in a pleasant dream I saw the old country

Each well-known scene that met my view brought childhood's joys to mind

The blackbird sang on Tushie 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