The Scarborough Settler's Lament by Iona Fyfe

Details
Title | The Scarborough Settler's Lament by Iona Fyfe |
Author | St. Andrew's Society Toronto |
Duration | 4:06 |
File Format | MP3 / MP4 |
Original URL | https://youtube.com/watch?v=65ZvejCJVqY |
Description
'The Scarborough Settler's Lament' was written by a Scottish immigrant who was longing for his homeland. Sandy Glendinning was one of the many Scots who settled in the bold highlands east of Toronto in the 1800s. Before it became known as Scarborough, the area was originally named after the Scottish city of Glasgow.
The St. Andrew's Society is pleased to present this performance by Scottish folk musician Iona Fyfe. If you would like the Society to sponsor more videos like this, please become a member at http://www.standrews-society.ca/
Iona is one of Scotland’s finest young ballad singers. Her style is deeply rooted in the singing traditions of Aberdeenshire. In 2018, Iona won the Scots Singer of the Year at the MG ALBA Scots Trad Music Awards. She studied at the prestigious Royal Conservatoire of Scotland and graduated with a first class honours degree in Traditional Music. Iona also holds an FLCM in Traditional Voice from London College of Music. You can learn more about Iona here - https://ionafyfe.com/
SCARBOROUGH SETTLER'S LAMENT
Away with Canada's muddy creeks
And Canada's fields of pine;
Your land of wheat is a goodly land,
But oh, it is not mine.
The heathy hill, the grassy dale,
The daisy spangled lea,
The purling burn and the craggy linn,
Old Scotia's land give me.
How I'd love to hear again
The lark on Tinny's hill,
And see the wee bit gowany
That blooms beside the rill.
Like banished Swiss who views afar
His Alps, with longing e'e,
I gaze upon the morning star
That shines on my country.
No more I'll wend by Eskdale Pen
Or Pentland's craggy cone.
The days shall ne'er return again
Of thirty years that's gone.
But fancy oft at midnight hour
Will steal across the sea;
Yestre'en amidst a pleasant dream
I saw my own country.
Each well-known scene that met my view,
Brought childhood's joys to mind
The blackbird sand on Tushy Linn
The song he sang "Lang Syne."
But like a dream, steals away,
Then morning came.
And I awoke in Canada
Three thousand miles from home.