There's a ship lies rigged and ready in the harbour,
Tomorrow for old England she sails.
Far away from your land of endless sunshine,
To my land full of rainy ksys and gales.
And I shall be aboard that ship tomorrow,
Though my heart is full of tears at this farewell.
For you are beautiful
And I have loved you dearly,
More dearly than the spoken word can tell.
For you are beautiful
And I have loved you dearly,
More dearly than the spoken word can tell.
I heard there's a wicked war ablazing
And the taste of war I know so very well.
Even now I see the foreing flag araising,
Their guns on fire, as we sail into hell.
I have no fear of death, it brings no sorrow,
But how bitter will be this last farewell.
For you are beautiful
And I have loved you dearly,
More dearly than the spoken word can tell.
For you are beautiful
And I have loved you dearly,
More dearly than the spoken word can tell.
Though death and darkness gather all about me
And my ship be torn apart upon the sea.
I shall smell again the fragrance of these islands
In the heaving waves that brought me once to thee.
And should I return safe home again to England,
I shall watch the English mist roll through the dell.
For you are beautiful
And I have loved you dearly,
More dearly than the spoken word can tell.
For you are beautiful
And I have loved you dearly,
More dearly than the spoken word can tell.
Writer(s): Roger Whittaker, Ronald Arthur Webster
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