"The Rowan Tree" Scottish folk song in Bill Nighy film Living "How sweet was then my mother's voice"

Maybe you know the song "The Rowan Tree" from the film titled Living?

Oh! rowan tree, oh! rowan tree,
Thou'lt aye be dear to me,
En twin'd thou art wi' mony ties
O' hame and infancy.
Thy leaves were aye the first o' spring,
Thy flow'rs the simmer's pride;
There was na sic a bonnie tree
In a' the countrie side.
Oh! rowan tree.

How fair wert thou in simmer time,
Wi' a' thy clusters white,
How rich and gay thy autumn dress,
Wi' berries red and bright.
On thy fair stem were mony names,
Which now nae mair I see;
But thy're engraven on my heart,
Forgot they ne'er can be.
Oh! rowan tree.

We sat aneath thy spreading shade,
The bairnies round thee ran,
They pu'd thy bonnie berries red,
And necklaces they strang;
My mither, oh! I see her still,
She smiled our sports to see,
Wi' little Jeanie on her lap,
And Jamie on her knee.
Oh!, rowan tree.

Oh! there arose my father's prayer
In holy evening's calm;
How sweet was then my mother's voice
In the Martyr's psalm!
Now a'are gane! We meet nae mair
Aneath the rowan tree,
But hallowed thoughts around thee
Turn o'hame and infancy.
Oh! rowan tree.

"The Rowan Tree" is a Scottish folk song that dates back at least to the 19th century.

It was collected by Carolina Oliphant, also known as Lady Nairne. She lived from 1766 to 1845.

She was born born in Gask, Perthshire, and helped revive interest in Scotland's past (as did Sir Walter Scott).

The song was included in R.A. Smith book The Scottish Minstrel (1822).

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Oh! Rowan Tree, Oh! Rowan Tree, thou'lt aye be dear to me,
Intwin'd thou art wi' mony ties o' hame and infancy.
Thy leaves were aye the first o' spring, thy flow'rs the simmer's pride;
There was nae sic a bonny tree, in a' the countrie side.
Oh! Rowan Tree.

How fair wert thou in simmer time, wi' a' thy clusters white,
How rich and gay thy autumn dress, wi' berries red and bright!
On thy fair stem were mony names, which now nae mair I see,
But they're engraven on my heart — forgot they ne'er can be!
Oh! Rowan Tree.

We sat aneath thy spreading shade, the bairnies round thee ran,
They pu'd thy bonny berries red, and necklaces they strang;
My mother! oh! I see her still, she smiled our sports to see,
Wi' little Jeanie on her lap, an' Jamie at her knee!
Oh! Rowan Tree.

Oh! there arose my father's prayer, in holy evening's calm,
How sweet was then my mother's voice, in the Martyr's psalm!
Now a' are gane! we meet nae mair aneath the Rowan Tree;
But hallowed thoughts around thee twine o' hame and infancy.
Oh! Rowan Tree.