A KEEK AT AULD DISDEER. Right pleased was I again to see O o r heather hills and mainland ten. But dearer was the sicht tae me O’ oor ain gran’ auld Scottish glen. I heard the gronse and blackcock’s note. And listened to the whaup’s lone cry. And. then I thought o days remote. When life was young, and scarce a sigh. I climbed yince main the highest hill. And viewed the glorious scene my lane, . And watched wi’ joy the wee bit rill Gang wimpiin’ slowly past my bame.
And as I scanned oor bonnie dell, That made my very bosom thrill Wi’ pride I whispered tae mysc!’— '■‘There’s nocht can beat auld Scot* land still.” The sheep passed in a line along, While frae a hawthorn on the brae The mavis sang in sweetest song His anthem to the closing day. 'Mid scenes of beauty unsurpassed There stood my hame —and though its wee— Yet still, as long as life shall last It ne’er will be forgot by mo. I saw a weel-konned form appear Still fondly lo’ed, what e’er befa’— It was my aged mither dear. My kindest freen, the best o’ a’* The sun was sinking in the west In yon blue lift sac grand an’ clear. As doon “The Wall,” still liked the best, I daunnered hame tao auld Disdccr.; —E. A. Ferguson.
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Poetry., Southern Cross, Volume 15, Issue 6, 11 May 1907
Poetry. Southern Cross, Volume 15, Issue 6, 11 May 1907
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