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A song out of Scotland. It was written by Rev. Robert Hogg Calder in 1882. It's a bit mawkish, although not nearly as much as one would expect from a Victorian story of someone dying early. The Brits of that era absolutely LOVED seeing scenes of Good people or innocent young things dying with as much tearful farewells and drawn-out exhortations to be of good cheer as they could possibly cram in. In comparison, this one is positively restrained.



The gloaming winds is sighing saft,
Aroon my lanely stable laft,
and frae the skylicht dusky red,
The sunbeams wander ower my bed.

The doctor left me words o’ cheer,
But something tells me death is near,
My time on earth has nae been lang,
but noo’s the term and I maun gang.

Ah me, 'tis but a week the morn,
Sin’ I was weel and hairstin corn,
As fu’ o’ health as blithe and strang,
As ony ane amang the thrang.

But something in my breist gaed wrang,
A vessel burst and blood oot sprang,
And ere my sun was in mid skies,
I laid me doon nae mair tae rise.

Fareweel my nags, my bonny pair,
I'll never yoke and lowse ye mair,
Fareweel my ploo, wi you this hand,
Shall turn nae mair the fresh red land.

Fareweel my freens, and parents dear,
My voice again ye’ll never hear,
Fare weel for aye thou settin sun,
My day is ower, my work is done.

I've served ma maister weel and true,
And weel deen work I dinna rue,
But yet forby I micht hae striven
Tae win the fee and arls o’ Heaven

Oh has the Maister got my name?
And shall I gae ta welcome hame?
Thou who does help in need afford
Receive me in Thy mercy, Lord.

 


 

The earliest recording of the song I could find was sung by Willie Kemp, probably in the 1930s. The earliest version of the current tune was sung by Andrew Robbie. It is sung here by Ilsa St. Clair.

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