From the album Like a Bird on the Wing
I first heard this played by Fiddler Jennings in Plymouth, after
a wake, and found the words many years later.
I believe that the song Dark Island was written by David Silver,
and the tune written by accordianist Iain MacLachlan for a
BBC Thriller called The Dark Island, in 1963. It is said that
"The show was filmed in Benbecula, Scotland".... and that
"The Dark Island was a radio play in 6 half hour instalments".
One thing is sure: the tune lingers in pub sessions still.
Hence Dark Island is often attributed as "traditional".
It seems that the tune had been played on the traditional
music circuit before being formally copyrighted and had
earlier titles including Dr. Mackay's Farewell to Creagorry and
Dr. McInnes's Farewell to South Uist.
There seem to be three different sets of words, all set to the
same tune.
One set of words was written by W. Gordon Smith who also
wrote the words for 'Come by the Hills'.
Scroll down to watch Video |
There's a place in the West that I'm longing to be
Where the beauties of heaven unfold by the sea
Where the sweet purple heather blooms fragrant and free
On a hillside high above the Dark Island
Oh, isle of my childhood I'm longing for thee
As the steamer leaves Oban and passes Tiree
Soon I'll capture the magic that lingers with me
When I'm back once more upon the Dark Island
So gentle the sea breeze that ripples the bay
Where the stream meets the ocean and the young children play
On a strand of pure silver I'll welcome each day
And I'll roam forever more the Dark Island
Oh jewel of the Hebrides bathed in the light
Of a midsummer's morning that follows the night
How I yearn for the seagulls' cries circling in flight
As they soar so high above the Dark Island
Here is another set of words - This version appears to be credited to Carl
Peterson:
As mists of the evening creep over the hill
And the sea round about her is silent and still
Forbidden dark island so dreary and cold
What mysterious tales can your black rocks unfold
While fishermen row past your dark ocean shore
And old wives are spinning and praying once more
No falsehood to dread no malice you hold
You are sworn to your secrets of stories untold
The old men will tell not a bird or a nest
At times not a seabird will stop there to rest
But you lie there in mist and cold watery waves
No harm is yet spoken no evil you show
Tis sacred you stand to folks long ago
No curses come from you or to you are shown
Just a lonely dark island a mysterious throne
But tho' they've not seen they'll tell what they know
Of kings and of princes who died long ago
Who rest in your coves and still to this day
They are seen in your shadows and thru the sea spray
So toast to yon mountains and summits of blue
And here's to the glens and the meadows of dew
It's not of these hills or valleys I dream
But the lonely dark island the home of the kings |