 | Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds |  |
THE SCOTCH LADDIE.
Cold blows the north wind o'er the mountain so bare,
Poor Sawney, benighted, is travelling there;
His plaid cloak around him he carefully binds,
And holds on his bonnet that's blown by the winds.
Poor Sawney, benighted, is travelling there;
43
And holds on his bonnet that's blown by the winds.
Long time has he wandered his desolate way,
That wound him along by the banks of the Tay;
Now o'er this cold mountain poor Sawney must roam,
Before he arrives at his dear little home.
That wound him along by the banks of the Tay;
Now o'er this cold mountain poor Sawney must roam,
Before he arrives at his dear little home.
Barefooted he follows the path he must go,
The print of his footsteps he leaves in the snow;
And while the white sleet patters cold on his face,
He thinks of his home, and he quickens his pace.
The print of his footsteps he leaves in the snow;
And while the white sleet patters cold on his face,
He thinks of his home, and he quickens his pace.
But see! from afar he discovers a light,
That cheerfully gleams on the darkness of night,
And oh, what delights in his bosom arise!
He knows 'tis his dear little home that he spies.
That cheerfully gleams on the darkness of night,
And oh, what delights in his bosom arise!
He knows 'tis his dear little home that he spies.
And now, when arrived at his father's own door,
His fears, his fatigues, and his dangers are o'er;
His brothers and sisters press round with delight,
And welcome him in from the storms of the night.
His fears, his fatigues, and his dangers are o'er;
His brothers and sisters press round with delight,
And welcome him in from the storms of the night.
44
For though the bleak winds of the winter may blow,
Till valleys and mountains are covered with snow,
The storms of the north cannot chill or control
The affection that grows in the Highlander's soul.
Till valleys and mountains are covered with snow,
The storms of the north cannot chill or control
The affection that grows in the Highlander's soul.
| Jane and Ann Taylor: Original Poems for Infant Minds | |