There may be lands where safter airs
Float down mair flowery vales—
Gi'e me the stirring mountain-breeze,
That swells our norlan' sails:—
And weel ye ken we've flowers enow,
Their names I needna tell,
We've aye the fearless thistle, lads!
And eke the sweet blue-bell.
Then hurrah, &c.
They boast o' lands wi' fairer skies,
And fields o' brighter bloom:
But leeze me on our heather-land,
Wi' a' its hamely gloom:—
And, tent me weel, there's mony a blink
Its darksome moods atween;
Sweet sunny blinks, that paint our hills
Wi' tints o' gowd and green.
Then hurrah, &c.
They sing o' lands where liberty
Has reared hersel' a hame—
And blest be they! for her dear sake,
We lo'e their very name:—
But by the men wha 'mang our hills
For freedom battled lang,
Auld Scotland yet shall bear the bell
For liberty and sang!
Then hurrah, &c.
I've worshipp'd on its mountain tops;
I've woo'd amang its dells;
And happy been in mony a cot,
Where love, where beauty dwells.
Its green turf covers mony a grave
O friends we lost langsyne:
And may the same dear, fragrant sod,
Lie saftly upon mine!
Then hurrah, &c.
The Trystin’ Tree.
[E. Conolly.—First printed in the Edinburgh Intelligencer for December, 16th, 1840.]
We sat beneath the trystin' tree,
The bonnie dear auld trystin' tree,
Whaur Harry tauld in early youth,
His tender tale o' love to me,
An' walth o' wedded happiness
Has been our blessed lot sinsyne,
Though foreign lands, lang twenty years,
Ha'e been my Harry's hame an' mine.
Wi' gratefu' glow at ilka heart,
An' joyfu' tears in ilka e'e,
We sat again, fond lovers still,
Beneath the bonnie trystin' tree.
We gaz'd upon the trystin' tree,
Its branches spreading far an' wide,
An' thocht upon the bonnie bairns
That blest our blythe bit ingle-side;
The strappin' youth wi' martial mien,
The maiden mild wi' gowden hair,
They pictur'd what oursels' had been,
Whan first we fondly trysted there;
Wi' gratefu' glow at ilka heart,
An' joyfu' tears in ilka e'e,
We blest the hour that e'er we met
Beneath the dear auld trystin' tree!
Where Quair rins sweet.
[Rev. James Nicol.—Mr. Nicol, the author of "Halucket Meg," and other songs given in this work, was born at Inverleithen, Peebleshire, on the 28th of September, 1769, and died at the manse of Traquair 5th November, 1819, in the fiftieth year of his age. Having officiated as tutor in various respectable families, he eventually succeeded to the parish of Traquair in the year 1802, on the death of the Rev. Mr. Walker, whose sister he married. Mr. Nicol was a kind amiable man, and much respected by all who knew him; he had a fine appreciation of the beauties of nature, and marked human character with a keen eye. In 1805, he published two volumes of poetry, which are well worthy of perusal; and, during the course of the publication of "The Edinburgh Encyclopedia," contributed various short articles, which are known by the signature of (N). The following song was one of his earliest productions, and was addressed to the lady who afterwards became his wife.]
Where Quair rins sweet amang the flowers,
Down by yon woody glen, lassie,
My cottage stands—it shall be yours,
Gin ye will be my ain, lassie.
