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The rude rushing waves
A‘ our shores round us washing
And the great billows heaves
A‘ the wind rocks a dashing.
He may look upon the moon,
And think on Lousiana,
With His heart full of woe,
On the isle of St Helena.
A‘ our shores round us washing
And the great billows heaves
A‘ the wind rocks a dashing.
He may look upon the moon,
And think on Lousiana,
With His heart full of woe,
On the isle of St Helena.
Now ye that have great wealth,
Beware of ambition;
⟨For⟩ some decree of fate
May change your condition.
Be ye stedfast in time,
⟨For⟩ what’s to come ye kenna,
⟨May⟩ be your race may end
At the isle of St Helena.
Beware of ambition;
⟨For⟩ some decree of fate
May change your condition.
Be ye stedfast in time,
⟨For⟩ what’s to come ye kenna,
⟨May⟩ be your race may end
At the isle of St Helena.
BANKS OF DOON.
⟨Ye⟩ banks and braes of bonny Doon,
How can ye bloom so fresh and fair,
⟨How⟩ can your blue stream row so clear;
When I'm so weary fu’ o’ care.
⟨Ye’ll⟩ break my heart, ye little birds,
That wanton on yon flow’ry thorn,
⟨Ye⟩ mind me of departed joys,
Departed never to return.
How can ye bloom so fresh and fair,
⟨How⟩ can your blue stream row so clear;
When I'm so weary fu’ o’ care.
⟨Ye’ll⟩ break my heart, ye little birds,
That wanton on yon flow’ry thorn,
⟨Ye⟩ mind me of departed joys,
Departed never to return.
