Page:Mary's dream (NLS104187029).pdf/6

6 While the lads o’ the outh Toil for bare war’ly treaure, To the lads o’ the north Ev’ry day brings its pleaure; Tho’ imple are the joys The brave Highlander poees, Yet he feels no annoys, For he fears no ditrees:

When the rude wintry win’ Idly raves round his dwelling, And the roar of the linn, On the night breeze is welling, Then o merrily he’ll ing, As the torm rattles o’er him, To the dear hieling ring, Wi’ the light lilting jorum.

Now the ummer is in prime, Wi’ the flow’rs richly blooming, And the wild mountain thyme A’ the moorlands perfuming; To our dear native cenes Let us journey together, Where glad Innocence reigns, ’Mang the braes o’ Balquhither.

Loudon’s bonny Woods and Braes.

’s bonny woods and braes, I maun lea’e them a’, laie; Wha can thole, when Britain’s faes Would gi’e Britons law, laie?