by William McLennan (1856 - 1904)

The hills o' Skye
Language: English 
There's a ship lies off Dunvegan,
An' she longs to spread her wings,
An' through a' the day she beckons,
An' thro' a' the nicht she sings!

"Come awa', awa', my darlin',
Come awa', awa', wi' me, and fly
To a land that is fairer, kinder,
Than the moors and the hills o' Skye.

Oh, my heart! My weary, weary heart!
There's ne'er a day goes by 
But it turns hame to Dunvegan,
By the storm-beat hills o' Skye.

I hae wandered miles fu' many,
I hae mark'd fu' many a change,
I hae won me gear in plenty,
In this land sae fair, but strange.

Yet at times a spell is on me,
I'm a child, a child once again to rin
On the hills aboon Dunvegan,
An' the kind sea shuts me in.

Oh, my heart! My weary, weary heart!
There's ne'er a day goes by 
But it turns hame to Dunvegan,
By the storm-beat hills o' Skye.

Authorship

Musical settings (art songs, Lieder, mélodies, (etc.), choral pieces, and other vocal works set to this text), listed by composer (not necessarily exhaustive)


Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 24
Word count: 160