THE evening sun's gaen down the west, The birds sit nodding on the tree; All nature now prepares for rest, But rest prepared there's none for me. The trumpet sounds to war's alarms, The drums they beat, the fifes they play, -- Come, Mary, cheer me wi' thy charms, For the morn I will be far away. @3Good night, and joy -- good night, and joy, Good night, and joy be wi' you a'; For since it's so that I must go, Good night, and joy be wi' you a'!@1 I grieve to leave my comrades dear, I mourn to leave my native shore; To leave my aged parents here, And the bonnie lass whom I adore. But tender thoughts maun now be hushed, When danger calls I must obey, The transport waits us on the coast, And the morn I will be far away. @3Good night, and joy, etc.@1 Adieu, dear Scotia's sea-beat coast! Though bleak and drear thy mountains be, When on the heaving ocean tost I'll cast a wishful look to thee! And now, dear Mary, fare thee well, May Providence thy guardian be! Or in the camp, or on the field, I'll heave a sigh, and think on thee! @3Good night, and joy -- good night, and joy, Good night, and joy be wi' you a';@1 @3For since it's so that I must go, Good night, and joy be wi' you a'!@1 |