The Wandering Shepherdess, or, the Betrayed Damsel (2)/Cauld Caledonia
Cauld Caledonia—By Burns.
Their groves of sweet myrtle let foereign lands reckon,where bright-beaming summer exalt the perfume;Far dearer to me yon lone glen o’ green breckanwith the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom.Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers,where the bluebell and gowan lurk lowly unseenFor there lightly tripping amang the wild flowersA-listning the linnet, aft wanders my Jean.
Tho’ rich in the breeze in their gay sunny valliesand cauld Caledonia’s blast on the wave;Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud palace,What are thy? the haunt o’ the tyrant & slave.The slave’s spicy forests and gold bubbling fountainsThe brave Caledonian views with disdain;He wanders as free as the snow on his mountainssave love’s willing fetters—the chains of his Jean.FINIS.