Welcome Charlie o'er the main/Hills Of Gallowa

HILLS OF GALLOWA.

Amang the birks sae blythe and gay,
I met my Julia hameward gaun;
The linties chantit on the spray,
The lammies lowpit on the lawn;
On ilka swaird the hay was mawn,
The braes wi' gowans buskit braw;
And gloamin's plaid o' grey was thrawn,
Out o'er the hills of Gallowa.

Wi' music wild the woodlands rang,
And fragrance winged alang the lee,
When down we sat, the flowers amang,
Upon the banks of stately Dee.
My Julia's arms encircled me;
Then sweetly slade the hours awa,
Till dawnin' cost a glimmerin' ee,
Upon the hills o' Gallowa.

It is nae owsen, sheep and kye,
It is nae gowd it is nae gear,
This lifted ee wad hae quoth I,
The warld's drumlie gloom to chear;
But gie to me my Julia dear,
Ye pow'rs wha rule this earthen ba
And O sae blythe thro' life I'll steer,
Amang the hills o' Gallowa.

When gloamin' daunders up the hill,
And our gudeman ca's hame the cows;
Wi' her I'll trace the mossy rill,
That thro' the rashes dimpled rows;
Or tint amang the scroggy knowes,
My birken pipe I'll sweetly blaw.
And sing the streams, the straths, the howes,
The hills and dales o’ Gallowa.

And when auld Scotland's heathy hills,
Her rural nymphs and jovial swains,
Her flowery wilds and wimpling rills,
Awake nae mair my cantie streams;
Where friendship dwells and freedom reigns,
Where heather blooms and moor-cocks craw,
O dig my grave, and lay my bones,
Amang the hills o’ Gallowa.