Another boat-load for the Further Shore,
Heap them up high in the stern;
Nae ane o’ them ever has crossed before
An’ never a ane'll return.
Heavy it rides sae full, sae full,
Deep, deep is the River,
But light, light is the backward pull,
The River flows silently on.
A cargo o’ corps that are cauld I trow —
They're grippy that grudge the fare —
An’ the antrin quick wi’ his golden bough
That's swappin’ the Here for There.
Heavy it rides sae full, sae full,
Slow, slow is the River,
But light, light is the backward pull,
The River flows silently on.
In vain will they look wha seek for a ford,
Where the reeds grow lank an’ lang:
This is the ferry, an’ I am the lord
An’ king o’ the boat an’ stang.
Heavy it rides sae full, sae full,
Black, black is the River,
But light, light is the backward pull.
The River, my River, flows on.