Lyrics

The Music O' Spey
Air, Lament or Listening Piece
Music by J. Scott Skinner (1847-1927)
Words by R. Grant of Peterhead, known as 'The Bard of Ugie'

I sing o' the Spey, the bonnie, bonnie Spey,
Whar the primrose grows so early,
An' ilka mile o' the bonnie Ilielan' stream
Can shew you some rare fairlie.

O dearly I lo'e the grand auld Spey,
And its music aye sae cheerie,
Whan I hear the soun' o' my ain' dear stream;
I ne'er feel dow nor weary.

The voice of the sea on a storm-lashed shore,
Is waesome to me and eerie;
And the sough o' the winds on Lochnagar
To me is ever drearie.

But the music o' Spey is grand to me,
Whan the shades o' nicht are fa'in;
I cou'd listen and listen the lee lang nicht,
An never wish to draw'in'.

In summer its lispin', ripplin' notes
Is a sang to me enchantin',
The music o' love, o' friendship, o' truth,
In which there is naething wantin'.

Sing on! sing on! my braw Hieln' stream,
The stream I lo'e sae dearly,
And a' the fouks on its bonnie green banks,
Shall share my love sincerely.