Chorus Roll gentle seas to the shores of my island, Blow gentle breeze, billowed sails fly me home To the scent of the flowers, the wild rose of summer, The green wooded hills, gentle land of my home. Come rest and I'll tell you the memories of my youth: The rivers, the fields, the warmth of the sand; The farmers, the fishers, Kind hearts and strong hands, Let my mind ever linger in that fair gentle land. Soft flowing rivers, the marsh and the meadows; The sea birds float softly against the clear sky In my dreams I remember the warmth of the summers; Let my heart ever linger in that fair gentle land. Far away I have wandered across the great oceans; Nowhere have I found a place to call home. So fair wind fill my sails, and grey seas pass under, To steady my course to that fair gentle land. |
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