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The Land o' the Leal
by Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne
Read by Marilyn Wright

Lady Nairne and her son

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Daughter of a Perthshire Jacobite, Carolina Oliphant ( 1766-1845 ) married William Nairne and called herself 'Mrs Bogan of Bogan' to write her songs, many of which are still widely popular today, including 'Caller Herrin', 'Willye no come back again?' and 'The Auld Hoose'.

                                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 baith gude and fair, John,
                                And, oh! we grudged her sair
                                    To the land o' the leal.
                                But sorrow's sel' wears past, John,
                                And joy is comin' fast, John,
                                The joy that's aye to last
                                    In the land o' the leal.
 
                                Sae dear's that joy was bough, John,
                                Sae free the battle fought, John,
                                That sinfu' man e'er brought,
                                    To the land o' the leal.
                                Oh! dry your glist'nin' e'e, John,
                                My saul langs to be free, John,
                                And angels beckon me
                                    To the land o' the leal.
 
                                Oh! haud ye leal an' true, John,
                                Your day it,s wearin, thro', 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.

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