|The Music Of Scotland|
|Farewell To Tarwathie|
Farewell to Tarwathie, adieu Mormond Hill
And the dear land of Crimond, I bid you farewell
I'm bound all for Greenland and ready to sail
In hopes to find riches in hunting the whale.
Farewell to my comrades, for a while we must part
And likewise the dear lass who first won my heart
The cold coast of Greenland, my love will not chill
And the longer my absence, more loving she'll feel.
Our ship is well-rigged and she's ready to sail
The crew, they are anxious to follow the whale
Where the icebergs do float and the stormy winds blow
And the land and the ocean are covered with snow.
The cold coast of Greenland is barren and bare
No seed time nor harvest is ever known there
And the birds here sing sweetly on mountain and dale
But there's no bird in Greenland to sing to the whale.
There is no habitation for a man to live there
And the king of that country is the fierce Greenland bear
And there'll be no temptation to tarry long there
With our ship bumper full we will homeward repair.