their groves o'sweet myrtle
tune—“humours of glen.”
their groves o' sweet myrtle let fn lands re,
where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume
far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green bre,
wi' the burn stealing uhe lang, yellow broom.
far dearer to me are yon humble broom bower
where the blue-bell and gowan lurk, lowly, unsee
for there, lightly tripping, among the wild flowers,
a-list'ning the li, aft wanders my jean.
tho' rich is the breeze in their gay, sunny valleys,
and cauld caledonia's blast on the wave
their sweet-sted woodlands that skirt the proud palace,
what are they?—the haunt of the tyrant and slave.
the slave's spicy forests, and gold-bubbling fountains,
the brave caledonian views wi' disdai
he wanders as free as the winds of his mountains,
ave love's williers—the s of his jean.
本章已阅读完毕(请点击下一章继续阅读!)