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Sarnia CherieSarnia Cherie is used as the anthem of the Bailiwick of Guernsey, one of the Channel Islands. 'Sarnia' is a traditional Latin name for the island, hence, the title translates as "Guernsey Dear". George Deighton wrote "Guernsey Dear" in 1911, with Domencio Santangelo subsequently composing the tune later that year. - Sarnia; dear Homeland, Gem of the sea.
- Island of beauty, my heart longs for thee.
- Thy voice calls me ever, in waking, or sleep,
- Till my soul cries with anguish, my eyes ache to weep.
- In fancy I see thee, again as of yore,
- Thy verdure clad hills and thy wave beaten shore.
- Thy rock sheltered bays, ah; of all thou art best,
- I'm returning to greet thee, dear island of rest.
CHORUS - Sarnia Cherie. Gem of the sea.
- Home of my childhood, my heart longs for thee.
- Thy voice calls me ever, forget thee I'll never,
- Island of beauty. Sarnia Cherie.
- I left thee in anger, I knew not thy worth.
- Journeyed afar, to the ends of the earth.
- Was told of far countries, the heav'n of the bold,
- Where the soil gave up diamonds, silver and gold.
- The sun always shone, and "race" took no part,
- But thy cry always reached me, its pain wrenched my heart.
- So I'm coming home, thou of all art the best.
- Returning to greet thee, dear island of rest.
CHORUS
A version in Guernesiais (Guernsey-French), Guernsey's own langue d'ol, has also been made: - Sarnia, chire patrie, bijou d'la mar,
- Ile plloinne d biautai, dans d'iaoue si cllaire
- Ta vouaix m'appeule terjous, mon tcheur plloin d'envie,
- Et mon me t crie en poine, mes iars voudraient t'veis.
- Quaend j'saonge, j't vaie derchier, mesme comme t'tais d'vnt,
- Tes ctis si vaerts et ton sabllaon si bllnc,
- Tes bnques et tes rotchets. Ah! D toutes la pus belle.
- Mon rfuge et mon r'pos, chire le qu'est si belle.
- Sarnia Chrie, ma chire patrie,
- D'l'le d ma nissance, mon tcheur a envie
- Ta vouaix m'appeule terjours,
- Et j'pense t chaque jour.
- Ile plloinne d biautai, Sarnia Chrie.
- Sns saver ta valeur, j'm'en fus en colre,
- Je v'yagis si llian, l'aute but d la terre.
- I m'dirent d biaux pays, et j'm'en fus brment
- Oueque la terre baillait haut d'l'or et d l'argent.
- Nous 'tait tous amis et i fit bal chaque jeur,
- Mais ta vouaix m'applait terjours, a m'dteurtait l'tcheur.
- Ch'est pourtchi qu j'm'en vians. Ah! t veis, la millaeure.
- Ma chire le d rpos, d chenna j'sis saeure.
- Sarnia Chrie, ma chire patrie,
- D'l'le d ma nissance, mon tcheur a envie
- Ta vouaix m'appeule terjours,
- Et j'pense t chaque jour.
- Ile plloinne d biautai, Sarnia Chrie.
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