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The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill

With biography, illustrations, and music

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The weary sun 's gane doun the west,
The birds sit nodding on the tree,
All Nature now inclines for rest,
But rest allow'd there 's nane for me.
The trumpet calls to War's alarms,
The rattling drum forbids my stay;
Ah! Nancy, bless thy soldier's arms,
Ere morn I will be far away.
I grieve to leave my comrades dear,
I mourn to leave my native shore,
To leave my aged parents here,
And the bonnie lass whom I adore.
But tender thoughts must now be hushed,
When duty calls, I must obey;
Fate wills it so that part we must,
The morn I will be far away.
Adieu! dear Scotland's sea-beat coast!
Ye misty vales and mountains blue!
When on the heaving ocean tost,
I 'll cast a wishful look to you.
And now, dear Nancy, fare-thee-weel!
May Providence thy guardian be!
And in the camp, or in the fiel',
My constant thoughts shall turn to thee.