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And now it's time to say fareweel |
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And though I hope that we may meet again |
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And all things may be reet again |
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We've lived and spent the day |
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And so we'll cry fareweel regality |
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And cry fareweel to liberty |
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To honest friends' civility |
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To winter's frost and fire |
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And there's naught that I can bid you |
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But that peace and love gan with you |
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Never mind wherever call the fates |
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Away from Hexhamshire |
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And what is time that flies so fleet |
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But just a bird that flies on merry wings |
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And lights us down in happy springs |
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When winter's need is past |
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And so we'll cry fareweel... |
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Aye but the curlew sings her sang |
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And winds her sorrows down the Rowley Burn |
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And drear as winds the hunter's horn |
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The call is all fareweel |
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And so we'll cry fareweel... |
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And as I set the mossy stones |
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And do me bits of jobs and gap the dykes |
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I hear the whispers down the sykes |
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Fareweel they sigh, fareweel |
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And so we'll cry fareweel... |
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Do I remember? Do I dream? |
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And did we rightly meet by Viewly Side? |
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For all this and much more beside |
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Has got me sore beguiled |
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And so we'll cry fareweel... |
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And on some golden autumn morn |
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Or when July is hazing Dipton Slopes |
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By Whitley Mill or Westburnhope |
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We'll live and spend the day |
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And so we'll cry fareweel... |
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And so we'll cry fareweel... |
