Blair Collection > Poems and songs

HOME-SICKNESS. Hi
The smell of the purple heather,
The myrtle wild, and thyme,
And the balmy fragrant sweetness
Of the Autumn's golden prime !
Oh ! for a sight of Ben-Nevis !
Methiiiks I see him now,
As the morning sunlight crimsons
The snow-wreath on his brow.
As he shakes away the shadows,
His heart the sunshine thrills
And he towers high and majestic
Amidst a thousand hills.
And grand old " Sgur-a-Dhomiil,"
That guards thy head Lochiel,
Whilst o'er his shoulder he casteth
An eye upon Loch- Shell.
The morning sun on Ben-Nevis
May weave a fairy crown,
But on thee he showers his glory,
When at eve he goeth down.
And "Lochiel," that "streak" of silver,
Where mountains wild and steep
Seem stretching in all their grandeur.
Far down in its blue deep.
A narrow stripe in its bosom
Reflects the azure skies.
That made me think in childhood
Of streams in Paradise.
But dearer fixr than Ben-Nevis,
And thy blue shores, Lochiel,
The touch of the hand that bringeth
Emotion's gladsome thrill ;
And the sight of the kindly faces
Mine eyes have yearned to see ;
And the music of living voices,
That sound like psalms to me.