Magaidh NicAonghais sings this song as she learned it from her mother, the outstanding singer Flòraidh NicNèill, who learned the song in Barra before she had even gone to school.
Writing in the journal Gairm, No. 26, Winter 1958, Donnchadh MacDhunlèibhe maintains that the woman who composed the song was from Mull:
“This song was composed by Ceit NicFhionghain of Tobermory, about a little more than sixty years ago, for her sweetheart, who at that time was working in Morvern.”
MacDhunlèibhe gives a number of variant verses:
Variant verses (MacDhunlèibhe)
My sweetheart is not from Galloway,
Nor an Arran man, nor a Northman;
It was in Mull he was reared —
A MacPhail with curling hair.
No wonder, no wonder at all
That my heart should be restless,
Looking down towards Aros,
The place where I left my love.
I would walk far from my people with you,
On a ship with her sails hoisted;
Not long would the wind take
To drive us across the seas.
I would walk far, far with you,
As far as the Green Isle,
If you would promise, when we returned,
To tie the knot that would not be loosened.
I would write you a sealed letter,
Sending it to you in secret;
It would do its duty well
If Dòmhnall Ruadh delivered it.
MacDhunlèibhe states that Dòmhnall Ruadh, who is mentioned in the song, was Ceit’s brother, and that he carried the post between Tobermory and Morvern.
In the book The MacDonald Collection of Gaelic Poetry, published in 1911 by the two ministers Angus MacDonald and Archibald MacDonald, the song appears again in a different form:
Variant from The MacDonald Collection of Gaelic Poetry (1911)
My love is Alastair,
Whom I seldom fail to mention;
To him the Braes of Garaidh are native,
Though he has taken another course.
I would leave my people with you
On a ship with her sails raised;
As long as the wind would carry us,
I would go with you, my love, across the seas.
I would rather have you in your shirt
Since I have given you my love,
Than a man — I would not take a hundred —
Though his cattle filled the byres.
You are no tippler, nor a quarrelsome man
Forever among disputes;
You are a fine companion around the bottle,
And no sourness or gloom is seen on you.
Many a time the MacDonald has brought down
A fine young man with curling hair,
The snorting wild stag
That will not come within the fold.
You are captain of the boat,
Bringing her down from every hardship;
You are the one who will bring her safe to harbour
From among the roaring green waves.