Poetry Archives

There was an auld fisher, he sat by the wa’,
  An’ luikit oot ower the sea;
The bairnies war playin, he smil’t on them a’,
  But the tear stude in his e’e.

      An’ it’s—oh to win awa, awa!
        An’ it’s, oh to win awa
Whaur the bairns come hame, an’ the wives they bide,
        An’ God is the father o’ a’!

Jocky an’ Jeamy an’ Tammy oot there
  A’ i’ the boatie gaed doon;
An’ I’m ower auld to fish ony mair,
  Sae I hinna the chance to droon!

    An’ it’s—oh to win awa, awa! &c.

An’ Jeannie she grat to ease her hert,
  An’ she easit hersel awa;
But I’m ower auld for the tears to stert,
  An’ sae the sighs maun blaw.

    An’ it’s—oh to win awa, awa! &c.

Lord, steer me hame whaur my Lord has steerit,
  For I’m tired o’ life’s rockin sea;
An’ dinna be lang, for I’m growin that fearit
  ‘At I’m ablins ower auld to dee!

      An’ it’s—oh to win awa, awa!
        An’ it’s, oh to win awa
Whaur the bairns come hame, an’ the wives they bide,
        An’ God is the father o’ a’!