Across the Grey Atlantic

Scottish vocals, Epic, Atmospheric, Cinematic, Traditional Sad Scotish, anthem

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Chorus
So fare ye well, my heather land,
We sail by fate, not by our hand.
Across the grey Atlantic foam,
To seek in sorrow a distant home.
O Canada’s woods and America’s wide plains,
Will you soothe our exile pains?
For though we leave by grief compelled,
In heart the Highlands still are held.

Verse 2
At Ullapool pier the keening cried,
As bairns clung fast to mothers’ side.
The creaking hull, the salt-stung air,
A thousand tears in whispered prayer.
Past Cape Wrath’s lonely light we turned,
And watched the last of Alba burn—
Not flame of fire, but fading blue,
Of mountains veiled in morning dew.

Verse 3
In Nova Scotia’s pine and snow,
We sowed the seeds we used to know.
By St. Lawrence River’s winding side,
We kept the Gaelic tongue and pride.
On America’s fields so vast and wide,
We worked with hope our only guide.
And in the hush of Sabbath psalm,
We dreamed of Ben and Highland calm.

Bridge
Though oceans stretch and years divide,
The thistle blooms where’er we bide.
From glen and strath to western shore,
We are the Gael forevermore.

Final Chorus
So raise a glass to lands once known,
And to the seeds in sorrow sown.
Across the grey Atlantic foam,
We found in exile a second home.
O Canada’s woods and America’s wide plains,
Still echo Highland refrains—
For though we left with broken heart,
From Scotland’s soul we’ll never part.

1964/7500

The factor rode at break of day, With writ in hand and none could stay. From Strathnaver’s brae to Skye’s shore, The smoke rose up from hearth and door. Our fathers’ stones, our mothers’ graves, Left to the wind and winter waves, The laird’s new sheep on silent hill Where once the pipes rang proud and shrill. Chorus So fare ye well, my heather land, We sail by fate, not by our hand. Across the grey Atlantic foam, To seek in sorrow a distant home. O Canada’s woods and America’s wide plains, Will you soothe our exile pains? For though we leave by grief compelled, In heart the Highlands still are held. Verse 2 At Ullapool pier the keening cried, As bairns clung fast to mothers’ side. The creaking hull, the salt-stung air, A thousand tears in whispered prayer. Past Cape Wrath’s lonely light we turned, And watched the last of Alba burn— Not flame of fire, but fading blue, Of mountains veiled in morning dew. Chorus So fare ye well, my heather land, We sail by fate, not by our hand. Across the grey Atlantic foam, To seek in sorrow a distant home. O Canada’s woods and America’s wide plains, Will you soothe our exile pains? For though we leave by grief compelled, In heart the Highlands still are held. Verse 3 In Nova Scotia’s pine and snow, We sowed the seeds we used to know. By St. Lawrence River’s winding side, We kept the Gaelic tongue and pride. On America’s fields so vast and wide, We worked with hope our only guide. And in the hush of Sabbath psalm, We dreamed of Ben and Highland calm. Bridge Though oceans stretch and years divide, The thistle blooms where’er we bide. From glen and strath to western shore, We are the Gael forevermore. Final Chorus So raise a glass to lands once known, And to the seeds in sorrow sown. Across the grey Atlantic foam, We found in exile a second home. O Canada’s woods and America’s wide plains, Still echo Highland refrains— For though we left with broken heart, From Scotland’s soul we’ll never part.

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