The birds were singing on every tree.
Oh, nature seemed to be at rest,
but still there was no rest for me.
May your mountains dark and dreary be
on the briny ocean tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh
I grieved to leave my native land
Grieved to leave my comrades all
And my aging loving parents
who I always held so dear
And the bonnie, bonnie lass
May your mountains dark and dreary be
on the briny ocean tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh
I have three brothers and they are at rest
Their arms are folded on their chest
But a poor weary sailor, the likes of me,
Must be tossed and forgotten
May your mountains dark and dreary be,
on the briny ocean tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh
So farewell to Nova Scotia,
May your mountains dark and dreamy be
on the bright ocean tossed
Will you ever heave a sigh
Will you ever heave a sigh
