And it's rovin' for pleasure by mountain and stream Rovin' for sorrow wi' whisky for dreams Rovin' for fortune on a far foreign shore At the back of the north wind, it's rovin' no more In the grey of the gloamin' there sits an old man Wi' a glint in his eye and a glass in his hand And he sings to the new day when the old day is done Cryin', "Where are my daughters and where are my sons?" And it's rovin' for pleasure by mountain and stream Rovin' for sorrow wi' whisky for dreams Rovin' for fortune on a far foreign shore At the back of the north wind, it's rovin' no more The old woman sits at the old spinning wheel She sings o' the cradle, the plough and the creel She sings to the bairns as she weaves and she spins An old woman's song to the tune of the wind And it's rovin' for pleasure by mountain and stream Rovin' for sorrow wi' whisky for dreams Rovin' for fortune on a far foreign shore At the back of the north wind, it's rovin' no more There's a maiden who scatters the seed on the land But the wind takes a share o' the seed from her hand That others might harvest what Scotland can sow As far as the blast o' the north wind can go And it's rovin' for pleasure by mountain and stream Rovin' for sorrow wi' whisky for dreams Rovin' for fortune on a far foreign shore At the back of the north wind, it's rovin' no more And it's rovin' for pleasure by mountain and stream Rovin' for sorrow wi' whisky for dreams Rovin' for fortune on a far foreign shore At the back of the north wind, it's rovin' no more