Sidor som bilder
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H

Hame, ame, Lame!

AME, hame, hame! hame fain wad I be !
Oh, hame, hame, hame to my ain countrie!

When the flower is in the bud, and the leaf is on the tree,
The larks shall sing me hame in my ain countrie;

Hame, hame, hame, hame! fain wad I be!
Oh, hame, hame, hame to my ain countrie!

The green leaf o' loyalty's begun for to fa',
The bonny white rose it is withering an' a',
But I'll water 't wi' the blude of usurping tyrannie,
An' green it will grow in my ain countrie!

Hame, hame, hame! hame fain wad I be!
Oh, hame, hame, hame to my ain countrie!

Oh, there's nought frae ruin my countrie can save,
But the keys o' kind Heaven to open the grave,
That a' the noble martyrs that died for loyaltie
May rise again and fight for their ain countrie.

Hame, hame, hame! hame fain wad I be !
Oh, hame, hame, hame to my ain countrie!

The great are now gane, a' wha ventured to save,
The new grass is springing on the tap o' their grave;
But the sun through the mirk blinks blithe in my e'e:
"I'll shine on ye yet in yere ain countrie."

Hame, hame, hame! hame fain wad I be!
Hame, hame, hame to my ain countrie!

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MONG the hills of Athol he was born,
Where, on a small hereditary farm,

An unproductive slip of rugged ground,
His parents, with their numerous offspring, dwelt.
A virtuous household, though exceeding poor!
Pure livers were they all, austere and grave,
And fearing GOD; the very children taught
Stern self-respect, a reverence for God's Word,
And an habitual piety, maintained

With strictness scarcely known on English ground.

From his sixth year, the boy of whom I speak,
In Summer tended cattle on the hills;
But, through the inclement and the perilous days

Of long-continuing Winter, he repaired,
Equipped with satchel, to a school, that stood

Sole building on a mountain's dreary edge,

Remote from view of city spire, or sound

Of minster clock. From that bleak tenement

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K

He, many an evening, to his distant home

In solitude returning, saw the hills
Grow larger in the darkness, all alone

Beheld the stars come out above his head,

And travelled through the wood with no one near
To whom he might confess the things he saw.

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