| Away to the westward, I’m longing to be
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| Where the beauties of heaven' unfold by the sea
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| Where the sweet purple heather' blooins fragrant and free
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| On a hill-top, high above the Dark Island
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| Oh Isle of my childhood I’in dreaming of thee
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| As the steamer leaves Oban, and passes Tiree
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| Soon I’ll capture the magic, that lingers for me
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| When I’m back, once more upon, the Dark Island
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| So gentle the sea breeze' that ripples the bay
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| Where the stream joins the ocean, and young children play
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| On a strand of pure silver, I’ll welcome each day
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| And I’ll roam forever more, the Dark Island
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| Oh Isle of my childhood I’in dreaming of thee
|
| As the steamer leaves Oban, and passes Tiree
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| Soon I’ll capture the magic, that lingers for me
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| When I’m back, once more upon, the Dark Island
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| True gem of the hebrides, bathed in the light
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| Like a midsummer dawning, that follows the night
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| How I long for the cry, of the seagulls in flight
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| As they circle high above' the Dark Island
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| Oh Isle of my childhood I’m dreaming of thee
|
| As the steamer leaves Oban, and passes Tiree
|
| Soon I’ll capture the magic, that lingers for me
|
| When I’m back, once more upon, the Dark Island |