 | The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill |  |
THE BANKS OF SPEY.
Scenes of my childhood, your wanderer hails you,Winged with rude storm, though the winter assails you;
Bleak and dreary as ye are, ye yet have charms to cheer me,
For here, amidst my native hills, my bonnie lassie's near me.
'Tis sad to see the wither'd lea, the drumly flooded fountain,
The angry storm in awful form, that sweeps the moor and mountain;
But from the surly swelling blast, dear lassie, I 'll defend her,
And from the bonnie banks o' Spey I never more shall wander.
| The songs and poems of Robert Tannahill | |