THE SWALLOW

Morning dawns on the stubbled fields
And the fires have all died away
And like a migrant bird you took
Your leave and went away
And if some yearning brings you back
Then we might meet again
And in the summer days we'll fly
And thoughts will be in vain

    In the morning you've gone
    And you cover the miles like a swallow,
    Our fair-weather friend
    Leave us to our winter life, the robin and the wren

Long before or so they say
When brief lives we held grow (?)
She said the world had many riches
Let us take them for our own
These isles we love they are too small
And my people too many by far
Go find for me some other land
Show what a brave nation we are

There's Englishmen in Amerikay
There's Scotsmen in Van Dieman's Land
There's Irish and Welshmen all round the world
All scattered like grains of sand
But what becomes of the ones who stay
While the sons and the daughters roam
What becomes of the sons they bear
Who never see their home


Grand song, great singer.

Jack