Rhymes and Recollections of a Hand-Loom Weaver By William Thom. Edited, with a Biographical Sketch, by W. Skinner |
 |
MY HEATHER LAND. |
 |
|
 | Rhymes and Recollections of a Hand-Loom Weaver |  |
MY HEATHER LAND.
My heather land, my heather land!
My dearest pray'r be thine;
Altho' upon thy hapless heath,
There breathes nae friend o' mine.
The lanely few that Heaven has spar'd
Fend on a foreign strand;
And I maun wait to weep wi' thee,
My hameless heather land!
My dearest pray'r be thine;
Altho' upon thy hapless heath,
There breathes nae friend o' mine.
The lanely few that Heaven has spar'd
Fend on a foreign strand;
And I maun wait to weep wi' thee,
My hameless heather land!
My heather land, my heather land!
Though fairer lands there be,
Thy gow'nie braes in early days,
Were gowden ways to me.
Maun life's poor boon gae dark'ning doun,
Nor die whaur it had dawn'd,
But claught a grave ayont the wave?
Alas! my heather land!
Though fairer lands there be,
Thy gow'nie braes in early days,
Were gowden ways to me.
61
Nor die whaur it had dawn'd,
But claught a grave ayont the wave?
Alas! my heather land!
My heather land, my heather land!
Though chilling Winter pours
His freezing breath roun' fireless hearth,
Whaur breadless misery cow'rs;
Yet breaks the light that soon shall blight
The godless reivin' hand—
Whan wither'd tyranny shall reel
Frae our rous'd heather land!
Though chilling Winter pours
His freezing breath roun' fireless hearth,
Whaur breadless misery cow'rs;
Yet breaks the light that soon shall blight
The godless reivin' hand—
Whan wither'd tyranny shall reel
Frae our rous'd heather land!
| Rhymes and Recollections of a Hand-Loom Weaver | |