The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd Centenary Edition. With a Memoir of the Author, by the Rev. Thomas Thomson ... Poems and Life. With Many Illustrative Engravings [by James Hogg] |
 |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
|
|
|
|
 | The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd |  |
Cameron's Welcome Hame.
Oh strike your harp, my Mary,
Its loudest, liveliest key,
An' join the sounding correi
In its wild melody;
For burn, an' breeze, an' billow,
Their sangs are a' the same,
And every waving willow
Soughs “Cameron's welcome hame.”
Its loudest, liveliest key,
An' join the sounding correi
In its wild melody;
For burn, an' breeze, an' billow,
Their sangs are a' the same,
And every waving willow
Soughs “Cameron's welcome hame.”
422
Oh list yon thrush, my Mary,
That warbles on the pine,
His strain, sae light an' airy,
Accords in joy wi' thine;
The lark that soars to heaven,
The sea-bird on the faem,
Are singing, frae morn till even,
Brave “Cameron's welcome hame.”
That warbles on the pine,
His strain, sae light an' airy,
Accords in joy wi' thine;
The lark that soars to heaven,
The sea-bird on the faem,
Are singing, frae morn till even,
Brave “Cameron's welcome hame.”
D'ye mind, my ain dear Mary,
When we hid in the tree,
An' saw our Auchnacarry
All flaming fearfully?
The fire was red, red glaring,
An' ruefu' was the scene,
An' aye you cried, despairing,
My father's ha's are gane!
When we hid in the tree,
An' saw our Auchnacarry
All flaming fearfully?
The fire was red, red glaring,
An' ruefu' was the scene,
An' aye you cried, despairing,
My father's ha's are gane!
I said, my ain dear Mary,
D'ye see yon cloud sae dun,
That sails aboon the carry,
An' hides the weary sun?
Behind yon curtain dreary,
Beyond, and far within,
There's Ane, my dear wee Mary,
Wha views this deadly sin.
D'ye see yon cloud sae dun,
That sails aboon the carry,
An' hides the weary sun?
Behind yon curtain dreary,
Beyond, and far within,
There's Ane, my dear wee Mary,
Wha views this deadly sin.
He sees this waefu' reaving,
The rage o' dastard knave,
He saw our deeds of bravery,
And He'll reward the brave.
Though all we had was given
For loyalty an' faith,
I still had hopes that Heaven
Would right the hero's skaith.
The rage o' dastard knave,
He saw our deeds of bravery,
And He'll reward the brave.
Though all we had was given
For loyalty an' faith,
I still had hopes that Heaven
Would right the hero's skaith.
The day is dawn'd in heaven
For which we a' thought lang;
The good, the just, is given
To right our nation's wrang.
My ain dear Auchnacarry,
I hae thought lang for thee;
Oh sing to your harp, my Mary,
An' sound its bonniest key!
For which we a' thought lang;
The good, the just, is given
To right our nation's wrang.
My ain dear Auchnacarry,
I hae thought lang for thee;
Oh sing to your harp, my Mary,
An' sound its bonniest key!
| The Works of The Ettrick Shepherd | |