OH, to see the heather
blowing,
Blowing on the hills again!
Oh, to watch the water flowing
Where the winter snows have lain
Oh, to linger where the growing
Shadows cover brae and ben,
And the sound of cattle lowing
Echoes down the misty glen!
What I'd give to see it glowing
Like the blood of chieftains slain
Blending softly, melting, showing
Rose and purple through the rain
I could rest forever, knowing
Love and tears are not in vain
Could I see the heather blowing
On the bonnie hills again!
(Reprinted by kind permission of Chambers's Journal)
