Kinloch Manuscripts, VII, 245. From the recitation of a little
boy from Glasgow, who sang it in Grove St., Edinburgh,
July, 1826.
| 1 |
Greenland, Greenland, is a bonny, bonny place,
Whare there's neither grief nor flowr,
Whare there's neither grief nor tier to be seen,
But hills and frost and snow. |
| 2 |
Up starts the kemp o the ship,
Wi a psalm-book in his hand:
'Swoom away, swoom away, my merry old boys,
For you'll never see dry land.' |
| 3 |
Up starts the gaucy cook,
And a weil gaucy cook was he;
'I wad na gie aw my pans and my kettles
For aw the lords in the sea.' |
| 4 |
Up starts the kemp o the ship,
Wi a bottle and a glass intil his hand;
'Swoom away, swoom away, my merry old sailors,
For you'll never see dry land.' |
| 5 |
O the raging seas they row, row, row,
The stormy winds do blow,
As sune as he had gane up to the tap,
As . . . low. |
