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The seagulls are calling, and the wind is in the sails,
And she's fast moving over the sea;
On a ship bound for St. John's three thousand miles away,
A human cargo my comrades and me.
Farewell my green valleys, God keep you the same,
If in only my mind you'll be;
I'm sailing dark water to far America,
Never more my green valley I'll see.
It hurts me to think of the things I left behind,
And the famine has blackened our land;
And to look now for something that I might never find,
Is a problem that now is at hand.
Farewell my green valleys, God keep you the same,
If in only my mind you'll be;
I'm sailing dark water to far America,
Never more my green valley I'll see.
There's a fever a-raging, and the wind has died away,
And the journey can no longer be;
And the plague is a shadow that lingers night and day,
For more thoughts of green valleys I'll see.
Farewell my green valleys, God keep you the same,
If in only my mind you'll be;
I'm sailing dark water to far America,
Never more my green valley I'll see.
Farewell my green valleys, God keep you the same,
If in only my mind you'll be;
I'm sailing dark water to far America,
Never more my green valley I'll see.
Note: Winner of the 1992 Stan Rogers Golden Quill Award.
