Heath flowers being a collection of poems, chiefly lyrical, written in the Highlands. By William Glen |
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 | Heath flowers |  |
35
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[Far from the scenes of my youth I may wander]
Far from the scenes of my youth I may wander,
Where winters are raging or gay summers smile;
But where, like the Forth, does a river meander,
Or where is a valley like sweet Aberfoyle?
With memory's eyes oft the sweet spot surveying,
I weep, for my heart's in the lonely green vale,
And there, with my lassie, I'd love to be straying—
Tha m'anam le Mairi, an tir nan Gaël.
Where winters are raging or gay summers smile;
But where, like the Forth, does a river meander,
Or where is a valley like sweet Aberfoyle?
With memory's eyes oft the sweet spot surveying,
I weep, for my heart's in the lonely green vale,
And there, with my lassie, I'd love to be straying—
Tha m'anam le Mairi, an tir nan Gaël.
But far, far away is the pride of my bosom,
And distance but fills my sad soul with alarms;
For tender indeed is my beautiful blossom,
And empty and lone is my sheltering arms,
O! if she were present, I'd shield her from danger,
Tho' tempests and thunders around would assail,
To my fond breast I'd clasp her, to wild fear a stranger—
Tha m'anam le Mairi, an tir nan Gaël.
And distance but fills my sad soul with alarms;
For tender indeed is my beautiful blossom,
And empty and lone is my sheltering arms,
O! if she were present, I'd shield her from danger,
Tho' tempests and thunders around would assail,
To my fond breast I'd clasp her, to wild fear a stranger—
Tha m'anam le Mairi, an tir nan Gaël.
36
Let the timerous roebuck delight in the mountains,
Let foxes rejoice in the rock-covered den,
Let the Osprey feel pleasure in skimming the fountains,
And Wood-Pigeons seek the deep shades of the glen;
Give me a wee sheeling, removed far from grandeur,
And there with my lassie true love would prevail,
I'd care not for riches, I'd care not for splendor,—
Tha m'anam le Mairi, an tir nan Gaël.
Let foxes rejoice in the rock-covered den,
Let the Osprey feel pleasure in skimming the fountains,
And Wood-Pigeons seek the deep shades of the glen;
Give me a wee sheeling, removed far from grandeur,
And there with my lassie true love would prevail,
I'd care not for riches, I'd care not for splendor,—
Tha m'anam le Mairi, an tir nan Gaël.
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