Carolina, Lady Nairne.
1766-1845
IM wearin awa, John, Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John, Im wearin awa To the land o the
leal.
Theres nae sorrow there, John, Theres neither cauld nor care, John, The day is aye fair In the
land o the leal.
Our bonnie bairns there, John, She was baith gude and fair, John; And O! we grudged her
sair To the land o the leal.
But sorrows sel wears past, John, And joys a-coming fast, John, The joy thats aye to last In
the land o the leal.
Sae dears the joy was bought, John, Sae free the battle fought, John, That sinfu man eer
brought To the land o the leal.
O, dry your glistening ee, John! My saul langs to be free, John, And angels beckon me To the
land o the leal.
O, haud ye leal and true, John! Your day its wearin through, John, And Ill welcome you To the
land o the leal.
Now fare-ye-weel, my ain John, This warlds cares are vain, John, Well meet, and well be
fain, In the land o the leal.
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By PanEris
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