Henrik Norbeck's Song Lyrics

Green Fields of Canada

Sheet Music (and more information about this song)

Farewell to the groves of shillelagh and shamrock,
Farewell to the wee girls of Ireland all round.
May their hearts be as merry as ever I would wish for
When it's far across the Atlantic I'm bound.

My father is old and my mother quite feeble,
And to leave their own country it grieves their hearts sore.
Oh, the tears down their cheeks in great drops are rolling
To think they must die upon a foreign shore.

But what matters to me where my bones may be buried
If in peace and contentment I can spend my life.
Oh, the green fields of Canada they daily are blooming,
'Tis there I'll put an end to my misery and strife.

So it's pack up your sea stores, consider no longer,
For ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay,
With no taxes or tithes to devour up your wages
When you're on the green fields of Americay.

The sheep run unsheared and the land's gone to rushes,
The handyman's gone and the winder of creels.
Away across the ocean go journeyman tailors
And fiddlers who flaked out the old mountain reels.

But I mind the time when old Ireland was flourishing,
When lots of our tradesmen did work for good pay.
But since out manufacturies have crossed the Atlantic,
Sure, there we must follow to Americay.

So it's pack up your sea stores and consider no longer,
For ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay,
With no taxes or tithes to devour up your wages
When you're on the green fields of Americay.

And it's now to conclude and to finish my story,
If ever friendless Irishmen chances my way,
With the best in the house I will greet him and welcome
At home on the green fields of Americay.

So it's pack up your sea stores and consider no longer,
For ten dollars a week isn't very bad pay,
With no taxes or tithes to devour up your wages
When you're on the green fields of Americay.

History: Slow, free rhythm

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