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THE LAND O' THE LEAL.

I'm wearing awa, Jean,
Like snaw when it's thaw, Jean;
I'm wearing awa
To the land o' the leal.
There's nae sorrow there, Jean,
There's nae cauld nor care, Jean,
The day is aye fair
In the land o' the leal.

Ye were aye leal and true, Jean,
Your task's ended now, Jean,
And I'll welcome you
To the land o' the leal.
Our bonny bairn's there, Jean,
She was baith gude and fair, Jean,
And we grudg'd her right sair,
To the land o' the leal.

Then dry that tearfu' ee, Jean,
My soul langs to be free, Jean,
And angels wait on me,
To the land o' the leal.
But sorrow's sell wears past, Jean,
And joy's coming fast, Jean,