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Sandy Denny - Fhir a Bhata “How often haunting the highest hilltop I scan the ocean, a sail to see Will it come tonight, love, will it come tomorrow Or ever come, love, to comfort me Fhir a bhata na horo eile Fhir a bhata na horo eile Fhir a bhata na horo eile O fare thee well, love, where’er thou be They call thee fickle, they call thee false one And seek to change me but all in vain Thou art my dream yet throughout the dark night And every moment I watch the main There’s not a hamlet, too well I know it, Where you go wandering or stay awhile But all its old folk you win with talking And charm its maidens with song and smile Dost thou remember the promise made me The tartan plaidie, the silken gown? The ring of gold with thy hair and portrait That gown and ring I will never own“
