Page:Six songs (1).pdf/6

 For while life's dearest blood runs warm,

My thoughts frae her shall ne'er depart;

For as most lovely is her form,

She has the truest, kindest heart.





OUR bugles had sung, for the night cloud had lower'd,

And the sentinel stars set the watch in the sky

And thousands had sunk on the ground overpowr'd

The weary to sleep, and the wounded to die.

When reposing that night on my pallet of straw,

By the wolf-scaring faggot, and guarded the slain,

At the dead of the night a sweet vision I saw,

And twice ere the cock crew, I dreamt it again.

Methought from the battle-field's dreadful array,

Far, far I had roam'd on a desolate track,

Till nature and sunshine disclos'd the sweet way

To the house of my father, that welcom'd me back.

I flew to the pleasant fields, travell’d so oft

In life's morning march, when my bosom was young,

I heard my own mountain-goats bleating aloft,

And well knew the strain that the corn-reapers sung.