Away to the westward
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 hilltop high above
The Dark Island

So gentle the sea breeze
That ripples the bay
Where the stream joins the ocean
And young children play
On the strand of pure silver
I'll welcome each day
And I'll roam for ever more
The Dark Island

True gem of the Herbrides
Bathed in the light
Of the midsummer dawning
That follows the night
How I yearn for the cries
Of the seagulls in flight
As they circle above
The Dark Island

Copyright: BMG Rights Management
Writer(s): MICHAEL GORDON OLDFIELD