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Mary Duff
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The Dark Island
Away to the westward I'm longing to be,
Where the beauties of heaven unfold by the sea,
Where the sweet purple heather blooms fragrant and free,
On a hilltop high above the Dark Island.
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.
True gem of the Hebrides, bathed in the light
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Of the midsummer dawning that follows the night
How I yearn for the cries of the seagulls in flight.
As they circle high above the Dark Island
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.
When I'm back once more upon the Dark Island.
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