Charles Villiers Stanford
2 voix · Voice, Piano
Chargement de la partition…
1. Oh! it’s home, it’s home, and only in its bosom would I lie, For I’m sore of heart and lonely ’Mid the crowds that pass me by, And I long to hear the hailing of the kindly fishers sailing Where the ocean winds are wailing up in Skye. I am weary of the striving After fortune’s flitting smile, With the great man’s cruel driving And the poor man’s hopeless toil, And I’d be with her who bore me, with the clouds of heaven o’er me, And the drifting sea be– fore me in the Kyle. 3. By the crystal fountains Mid the lowland vales caress’d, O’er the meadows and the mountains Shall my steps pursue their quest, Thro’ Strath– more and up Glengarry, past Loch Eil and Achnacarry, Till at length in peace they tarry in the West. Oh! it’s hard and scarred and lonely That cold island in the foam, And its sons know manhood only That their eager feet may roam, Yet its mem’ries still are nearest and its falling whispers clearest, And to me it’s ever dearest, for it’s home.
OpenScore (CC0)
Connectez-vous pour copier cette partition dans votre espace et l'annoter. La partition d'origine, elle, ne change jamais.