Heath flowers being a collection of poems, chiefly lyrical, written in the Highlands. By William Glen |
 |
THE HIGHLANDS. |
 | Heath flowers |  |
29
THE HIGHLANDS.
My soul is on the highland hills wharever I may roam,
My soul's in Caledonia, it is my native home,
And I would never murmur, tho' tost upon the sea,
Except when I am sighing for mine ain countrie;
O! blessed be the mountain-taps whare springs the purple heath,
An' happy be the bonny Strath whare I first drew my breath;
For whan I'm seated in my cot, nae mair frae it to stray,
My friend and I will merry be owre quaighs o' usquabae.
My soul's in Caledonia, it is my native home,
And I would never murmur, tho' tost upon the sea,
Except when I am sighing for mine ain countrie;
O! blessed be the mountain-taps whare springs the purple heath,
An' happy be the bonny Strath whare I first drew my breath;
For whan I'm seated in my cot, nae mair frae it to stray,
My friend and I will merry be owre quaighs o' usquabae.
Then welcome be the highland hills for ever unto me,
For happy, in my sheeling there, my friend and I will be,
When spring is budding in her youth, when summer's glories smile,
Or winter sends the howling storms owre the braes o' Aberfoyle;
I'll range the hills in summer's prime, in winter, in my cot,
Chearfu' and contented still I'll bless my happy lot,
An' whether summer suns blink sweet, or midnight lightnings play,
My friend and I will merry be, owre quaighs o' usquabae.
For happy, in my sheeling there, my friend and I will be,
When spring is budding in her youth, when summer's glories smile,
Or winter sends the howling storms owre the braes o' Aberfoyle;
30
Chearfu' and contented still I'll bless my happy lot,
An' whether summer suns blink sweet, or midnight lightnings play,
My friend and I will merry be, owre quaighs o' usquabae.
| Heath flowers | |