On Tay's sweet banks the lintwhite sings sae cheerily,
Sweet blooms the violet and gowan in the grove;
The lambs o'er the meads they sport and play sae merrily,
And the shepherd here at eve is fain to meet his love:
'Twas here young Sandy first I knew,
Sic youths as him they are but few,
For he was comely, kind, and true;
But, ah! one luckless day,
A Press--gang forc'd my love to go
To fight for them he never saw,
And left me here quite sunk in woe,
For Sandy far--away.

On Tay's sweet banks they tore my laddie from me;
O, sair did I weep when Sandy cried adieu!
In vain the shepherds try to heap their favours on me,
In vain the lasses seek sweet flow'rs to busk my brow;
But shou'd the youth return again,
'Twou'd ease this aching heart frae pain;
Then pleas'd I'd listen to his strain
A' the live--lang day.
My blessing aye attend my love,
Mak' him your care ye pow'rs above,
For weel I ken he'll constant prove,
Young Sandy far away.

On Tay's sweet banks I us'd to sing sae blythe and gay,
While Sandy pip'd so sweetly upon his oaten reed;
Now lonely I wander, sighing sad, ah! well--a--day!
Nor heed the shepherds' dance at eve upo' the mead.
Whene'er we met upo' the plain,
He ca'd me aye his Highland Jean,
And prais'd my cheeks and sparkling een,
Aye at close o' day.
When last we wander'd to Dundee,
He cried, sweet lass, I'll marry thee;
But, O! nae mair I hope to see
Young Sandy far away.