The Book of Scottish Song/We'll go to sea no more
We'll go to sea no more.
[From the "Odd Volume—Second Series," by the Misses Corbet.]
Oh! blythly shines the bonnie sun
Upon the Isle of May,
And blythly comes the morning tide
Into St. Andrew's bay;
Then up, gudeman—the breeze is fair;
And up my braw bairns three,—
There's goud in yonder bonnie boat
That sails so well the sea!
When haddocks leave the Firth of Forth,
And mussels leave the shore;
When oysters climb up Berwick Law,
We'll go to sea no more,
No more,
We'll go to sea no more.
I've seen the waves as blue as air,
I've seen them green as grass;
But I never feared their heaving yet
From Grangemouth to the Bass.
I've seen the sea as black as pitch,
I've seen it white as snow;
But I never feared its foaming yet.
Though the winds blew high or low.
When squalls capsize our wooden walls,
When the French ride at the Nore,
When Leith meets Aberdour half-way.
We'll go to sea no more,
No more,
Well go to sea no more.
I never liked the landsman's life,
The earth is aye the same;
Gi'e me the ocean for my dower,
My vessel for my hame.
Gi'e me the fields that no man ploughs,
The farm that pays no fee;
Gi'e me the bonnie fish that glance
So gladly through the sea.
When sails hang flapping on the masts,
Though, through the waves we snore;
When in a calm we're tempest tost,
We'll go to sea no more,
No more,
We'll go to sea no more.
The sun is up, and round Inchkeith,
The breezes saftly blaw;
The gudeman has the lines on board,—
Awa', my bairns, awa'!
And ye'll be back by gloaming gray,
And bright the fire will low;
And in our tales and sangs we'll tell
How weel the boat ye row.—
When life's last sun gangs feebly down,
And death comes to our door—
When a' the warld's a dream to us,
We'll go to sea no more,
No more,
We'll go to sea no more.