tannahill weavers
By R. Gullane
A 'homesick" song from an exiled Tannahill.  Scotland is famous for songs of this genre but, strangely, most of them were (and are) written by people who have never left home.  This, however, is the genuine article.

Picture this...  An old man standing in Glasgow airport waiting for the arrival of his brother from Canada.  They haven't seen each other for 30 years.

His friend says, "Willie, will you recognize him?"

"Sure," replies Willie, "He sent me a current photo of himself just last week."

"Will he recognize you, Willie?" asks his friend next.

"Don't be stupid; of course he will!" replies Willie.  "I haven't been away!"


Wild birks on the craggy scaur
A gurley blaw steirs an ootby shaw
As the land birst hurls wi' braisant gowl
Ower the foreland by the haugh

Bluid red is the sun's doonfa'
Loud and bardy the curlew's ca'
Ower the blackness o' the sea
As the wee boats drift awa'

The kittle wind amang the heather bells
The bonnie bird that sing its lanely sel'
The crimson forenicht 'mang the briar
Ca' me hame, hame, hame

Tae the westlins the nicht's at haun
The days last gaitherins linger thrawn
Then like snaw bree whippert slees awa'
Till the blin oors afore us staun

Through the daurknin the tourocks rise
The drumly waters o' nicht fleit by
Tae its benmaist bank the boatie rows
Where gorlin day afore us lies

The still o' nicht, the flooer stapt breeze that blaws
And by the greeshoch jinkin shadows fa'
The fleckit moon that floods the bracken
Ca' me hame, hame, hame

Gentle, gentle, the loom o' morn
Straiks yestreen frae the gowden corn
Ower the kelterin knowes the keek o' day
Smoors the hinmaist blinterin staurn

High oot ower the emerant howes
A gangrel deer through the balloch dows
Fairmers rise tae share the field
Wi' the moorhen and the drow

The brattlin burn that's burlin ower the braes
The tousled whin that on the laggin lays
The cuttie rins athwart the loanin
Ca's me hame, hame, hame



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tannahill weavers