Ossian Collection > Songs of the Gael

12-ORAN AN UACHDARAIN-S0N6 TO THE CHIEF.
KBY C.— With tpirit.
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CJio, \| Faill m 6 ro.faill iU 6 iFailim d ro, eU - e, Hi |ri - thU uithil
Fal il d ro, fal il ft Day around me spring - ing,He€ ri - hil uhil
Fine.
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gn 6, 'Sna'thugaibhhdro ell
ft. No heart have I for sing
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e. llGiu" Imise tha trom airtneulach /
ing. At dawn I riae with weeping eyes,
B.C.
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I mhadainn is mi 'g eiridh, Tha I gaoth an ear a gobachadh, 'scha'i
No heart have I for singing; Around me shiill the breezes chill Of eastern winds are
Tha gaoth an ear a' gobachadh,
'S cha'n 1 mo thocpirt fhein i ;
'S i gaoth an iar, a b aite leinn,
A's lasan oirre 'g eiridh.
FkiU iU, eta
"Si gaoth an iar, a b' aite leinn
Is lasan oirre 'g eiridh ^
Gu'n tigeadh oirnn am bata
D'am b' abhaist a bhi treubhach.
Gun tigeadh oii-nn am bata
D'am b' abhaist a bhi treubhach
Uachdaran na tlr' oirre —
Mo dhlth ma dh' eireaa beud Aa !
Uachdaran na tlr' oirre —
Mo dhith ma dh' eirea-s beud da I
Uachdaran na duthch' innte—
Gu bheil mo dhiirachd fein leis.
Uachdaran na duthch' innte
Gu bheil mo dhurachd fein leis
Hi rl gu 'm b' ait leam fallain thu,
Ad chaisteal ann an Sl^ibhte !
Hi ri gu 'm b' ait leam fallain thu,
Ad chaisteal ann an Sl^ibhte
Far am bi na f idhleirean,
'S na ploban ann ga'n gleusadh.
Far am bi na f idhleirean
'S na iJ^oban ann 'gan gleusadh
Aeh 's uiifle tha trom airtueidach
'Sa mhadainn ia mi 'g eiridh.
Around me shrill the breezes chill
Of eastern winds are stinging,
Oh, I would hail the western gale.
With blessings round it flinging.
Fal il oro, fal il ft, &c
Yes, I would hail the western gale,
With blessings round it flinging,
Oh, that it brought the bonnie boat,
Light o'er the billows swinging.
Oh, that it brought the boimie boat,
Light o'er the billows swinging,
And safe may float the bonnie boat,
Our gallant chieftain bringing.
Oh, safe may float the bonnie boat.
Our gallant chieftain bringing.
For our relief our country's chief,
To whom our hearts are clinging.
For our relief our country's cliief.
To whom our hearts are clinging,
Oh would that he right gallantly
His way to Sleat were winding.
Oh, would that he right gallantly,
His way to Sleat were win^nng,
Where songs arise and harmonies,
With harp and pibroch ringing.
Where songs arise and harmonies.
With harps and pibroch ringing,
But now 1 rise with weeping eyee.
No heart have I for nngi^j.