Now simmer decks the fields wi' flowers,    "The woods wi' leaves sae green, An' little birds aroon' their bowers,    In harmony convene: The cuckoo flees frae tree tae tree,    While saft the zephyrs blaw, But what are a' thae joys tae me,    When Jockie's far awa' ?       When Jockie's far awa' on sea.       When Jockie's far awa' ;       But what are a' thae joys tae me,       When Jockie's far awa'? Last May mornin', how sweet tae see    The little lambkins play. Whilst my dear lad, alang wi' me,    Did kindly walk this way ! On yon green bank wild flowers he pou'd    Tae busk my bosom braw ; Sweet, sweet he talk'd, an' aft he vow'd,    But noo he's far awa'.       But noo, etc. O, gentle peace, return again,    Bring Jockie to my arms, Frae dangers on the raging main,    An' cruel war's alarms Gin e'er we meet, nae mair we'll part    While we ha'e breath tae draw ; Nor will I sing, wi' aching heart,    My Jockie's far awa'.       My Jockie's far awa', etc.
MY JOCKIE’S FAR AWA’
The Village of Chryston - North Lanarkshire - Scotland
Chryston
Walter Watson
The Chryston Poet