On the banks of the Riveried Prairie
In Quebec at a place called Shaumaday
All the trees are bare of leaves
And a lonely robin grieves
For his friends have spread their wings and flown away
I've watched the cold black waters running eastwards
And my thoughts are flowing with them to the sea
So I whisper to the waves
What my hungry spirit craves
And I wish they'd act as messengers for me!
Tell my love, that one day I'll be with her
Where the hills are low and misty green
And the roads wind between the hawthorn hedges
And we'll walk in the gentle rain of England!
In the sky southern clouds are drifting slowly
There's a chill in the air that smells of snow
And in every window box, there are empty flowers stalks
Where geraniums and pansies used to grow
All the leaves are red and gold and yellow
Crumpled carpets till the breezes set them free
Then they twist and turn and spin
By the river, then fall in
And they set out on their voyage to the sea!
Tell my love, that one day I'll be with her
Where the hills are low and misty green
And the roads wind between the hawthorn hedges
And we'll walk in the gentle rain of England!
There's a West wind that's cold and full of bluster
Roaring threats that the snow is on its way
Then it snatches at a kite
Lifts it almost out of sight
As if pausing for a moment, just to play
Then it rushes towards the great Atlantic
And I wonder if somewhere over there
Swooping down from up above
It will find the one I love
And will take delight in tangling her hair!
Tell my love, that one day I'll be with her
Where the hills are low and misty green
And the roads wind between the hawthorn hedges
And we'll walk in the gentle rain of England!