| Farewell to pleasant Dilston
|
| My father’s ancient seat
|
| A stranger must now call thee his
|
| Which gars my heart to greet;
|
| Farewell each friendly well known face
|
| My heart has held so dear
|
| My tenants now must leave their lands
|
| Or hold their lives in fear
|
| No more along the banks of Tyne
|
| I’ll rove in autumn grey
|
| No more I’ll hear at early dawn
|
| The lav’rocks wake the day;
|
| And who shall deck the hawthorn bower
|
| Where my fond children strayed?
|
| And who, when spring shall bid it flower
|
| Shall sit beneath the shade?
|
| And fare thee well, George Collingwood
|
| Since fate has put us down
|
| If thou and I have lost our lives
|
| Our King has lost his crown;
|
| But when the head that wears the crown
|
| Shall be laid low like mine
|
| Some honest hearts may then lament
|
| For Radcliffe’s fallen line
|
| Farewell, farewell, my lady dear
|
| Ill, ill, thou councell’dst me
|
| I never more may see the babe
|
| That smiles at your knee;
|
| Then fare ye well brave Widdrington
|
| And Foster ever true;
|
| Dear Shaftsbury and Errington
|
| Receive my last adieu
|
| And fare thee well my bonny grey steed
|
| That carried me aye so free
|
| I wish I’d been asleep in my bed
|
| Last time I mounted thee;
|
| The warning bell now bids me cease
|
| My trouble’s nearly oer
|
| Yon sun that rises from the sea
|
| Shall rise on me no more
|
| And when the head that wears a crown
|
| Shall be laid low like mine
|
| Some honest hearts may then lament
|
| For Radcliffe’s fallen line
|
| Farewell to pleasant Dilston hall
|
| My father’s ancient seat
|
| A stranger now must call thee his
|
| Which gars my heart to greet |