We're far alang the pathway that wi' end in heav- en some day;
O a' our bairns, except yoursel', we hae said, "The Lord does weal;"
For each has gang before us to the "Land o' the Leal."
O a' our bairns, except yoursel', we hae said, "The Lord does weal;"
For each has gang before us to the "Land o' the Leal."
On the stane by the doorway, when twilight shadows fa'
I sit an' wait your comin' doun the path beside the wa';
An' the sang I used to sing I aftentimes repeat,
As when, a bairnie on my breast, I was rockin' ye to sleep.
I sit an' wait your comin' doun the path beside the wa';
An' the sang I used to sing I aftentimes repeat,
As when, a bairnie on my breast, I was rockin' ye to sleep.
There's a voice borne on the breeze as it floats adoun the glen,
A voice sae like your ain I think ye've come again,
An' the wish ye aft must feel seems whisperin' thro' the air,
"Oh, the Hielands! the Hielands! Oh, gin I was there."
A voice sae like your ain I think ye've come again,
An' the wish ye aft must feel seems whisperin' thro' the air,
"Oh, the Hielands! the Hielands! Oh, gin I was there."
Oh, Donald! dear bairn Donald! up yonder meadow slope
Somewayfarer is nearin'. Oh, wad that I might hope
It was thysel' returnin', now even amaist here,
"Twad be the bonniest sicht I've met in mony a year.
Somewayfarer is nearin'. Oh, wad that I might hope
It was thysel' returnin', now even amaist here,
"Twad be the bonniest sicht I've met in mony a year.
My heart grows still wi' watchin', for the way across the moor
Brings the laddie ever nearer, an' he seems to seek our door.
Oh, Donald! Donald! 'tis thysel', thy ain dear sel' at last,
Ance more amang the Hielands, thy days o' absence past.
Brings the laddie ever nearer, an' he seems to seek our door.
Oh, Donald! Donald! 'tis thysel', thy ain dear sel' at last,
Ance more amang the Hielands, thy days o' absence past.
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