Lyrics Rich Man's Silver - The Tannahill Weavers

Rich Man's Silver

A lone heron flies into the last fire of sunset
Wild seabirds cry sad for the passing of the day
Had I the wings there is a dream I’d surely follow
Swiftly they’d bring me where my thoughts so ever stray
Long is the night 'mang the waves upon the ocean
Dawn’s early light finds me so far from native shore
Gladly I came seeking the joy of rich man’s silver
Now is the flame of my dear youthland gold and more
Black rain and drills calling me here amang these strangers
The brewer’s ancient skills can’t cheer a heart that’s growing cold
Carry me o’er like a wild wave on the water
Onto the shore of my fair heartland loved of old