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6
Round the silven fairy nooks,
Feath’ry brecans fringe the rocks;
’Neath the brae the burnie jouks.
And ilka thing is cheery O.
Trees may bud, and birds may sing,
Flow’rs may bloom, and verdure spring,
Joy to me they cannot bring,
Unless wi’ thee, my dearie O.
Jockey’s far awa’.
Now simmer decks the fields wi’ flowers,
The woods wi’ leaves so green
An’ little burds around their bow’rs
In harmony convene;
The cuckow flies frae tree to tree,
Whilst saft the zephyrs blaw:
But what are a’ thae joys to me,
When Jockey’s far awa’.
When Jockey’s far awa’ on sea,
When Jockey’s far awa;
But what are a’ thae joys to me,
When Jockey’s far awa’.
