Heart’s-joy must fade with sorrow,
For both are sprung from clay:
But the Joy that is one with Sorrow,
Treads an immortal way:
Each hath in fee To-morrow,
And their soul is Yesterday.
Joy that is clothed with shadow
Is the Joy that is not dead:
For the joy that is clothed with the rainbow
Shall with the bow be sped:
Where the Sun spends his fires is she,
And where the Stars are led.
Farewell to Fiunary.
NORMAN MACLEOD
The wind is fair, the day is fine,
And swiftly, swiftly runs the time,
The boat is floating on the tide
That wafts me off from Fiunary.
Eirigh agus tingainn O!
Eirigh agus tingainn O!
Erigh agus tingainn O!
Farewell, farewell to Fiunary!
A thousand, thousand tender ties
Awake this day my plaintive sighs,
My heart within me almost dies
To think of leaving Fiunary.
Eirigh agus tingainn O! etc.
With pensive steps I often strolled
Where Fingal’s castle stood of old,
And listened while the shepherd told
The legend tales of Fiunary.
Eirigh agus tingainn O! etc.