 | New songs of innocence |  |
102
SCOTTISH SONG.
O Willie, when your voice I hear
So high and sweet, so true and clear,
The wildly varied notes prolong
Of some neglected Scottish song,
My heart responsive swells, and fills
With memories of heather hills,
And lonely glens, and winds that wail
Down through the years their wordless tale.
So high and sweet, so true and clear,
The wildly varied notes prolong
Of some neglected Scottish song,
My heart responsive swells, and fills
With memories of heather hills,
And lonely glens, and winds that wail
Down through the years their wordless tale.
And clearer yet the vision grows—
I see the feuds of ancient foes;
In ‘clouds o' reek’ that reach the skies,
The bonnie House o' Airlie lies.
Then, melting to a minor key,
The wandering Prince's woes I see,
As ‘sweet and clearly’ as of yore
The wee bird sings at my ha' door.
I see the feuds of ancient foes;
In ‘clouds o' reek’ that reach the skies,
The bonnie House o' Airlie lies.
Then, melting to a minor key,
The wandering Prince's woes I see,
As ‘sweet and clearly’ as of yore
The wee bird sings at my ha' door.
Shall these, our children's heritage,
Be yet denied our children's age?
In Memory's museum classed
As relics of a barbarous Past?
Nay, let us at their vocal shrine
Our hearts in human touch combine,
And glad our sordid cares forget
To feel their pity potent yet!
Be yet denied our children's age?
In Memory's museum classed
As relics of a barbarous Past?
Nay, let us at their vocal shrine
Our hearts in human touch combine,
And glad our sordid cares forget
To feel their pity potent yet!
| New songs of innocence | |