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Land of the Leal
I'm
wearin' awa', John,
Like snaw wreaths in thaw, John,
I'm wearin' awa'
To the land o' the leal.
There's nae sorrow there, John,
There's neither cauld nor care, John,
The day is aye fair
In the land o' the leal.
Our
bonnie bairn's there, John,
She was bairth good and fair, John,
And oh ! We grudged her sair
To the land o' the leal.
But sorrow's sel' wears past, John,
And joy's a-comin fast, John,
The joy that's aye to last
In the land o' the leal.
Oh,
haud ye leal and true, John,
Your day it's wearin' through, John,
And I'll welcome you
To the land o' the leal.
Now fare ye weel, my ain John,
This warld's cares are vain, John,
We'll meet, and we'll be fain
In the land o' the leal.
Carolina
Oliphant, (Lady Nairne), 1766-1845
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