GREENLAND, Greenland, is a bonny, bonny place,
Whare there’s neither grief nor flowr,
Whare there’s neither grief nor tier to be
seen,
But hills and frost and snow.
Up starts the kemp o the ship,
Wi a psalm-book in his hand:
‘Swoom away, swoom away, my merry old boys,
For you’ll never see dry land.’
Up starts the gaucy cook,
And a weil gaucy cook was he;
‘I wad na gie aw my pans and my kettles
For aw the lords in the sea.’
Up starts the kemp o the ship,
Wi a bottle and a glass intil his hand;
‘Swoom away, swoom away, my merry old sailors,
For you’ll never see dry land.’
O the raging seas they row, row, row,
The stormy winds do blow,
As sune as he had gane up to the tap,
As . . . low.
Mermaid Song Iv
Did you enjoy the the artible “Mermaid Song Iv” from Anonymous Olde English on OZOFE.COM? Do you know anyone who could enjoy it as much as you do? If so, don't hesitate to share this post to them and your other beloved ones.
Leave a Reply