Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birth-place of valour, the country of worth! Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. Farewell to the mountains, high cover’d with snow; Farewell to the straths and green valleys below; Farewell to the forests and wild-hanging woods; Farewell to the torrents and loud-pouring floods! My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here; My heart’s in the Highlands a-chasing the deer; Chasing the wild deer, and following the roe, My heart’s in the Highlands, wherever I go! [Illustration: Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. ] THE LOVELY LASS OF INVERNESS The lovely lass o’ Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e’en and morn she cries, ‘alas!’ And aye the saut tear blins her ee: ‘Drumossie moor, Drumossie day, A waefu’ day it was to me; For there I lost my father dear, My father dear, and brethren three. ‘Their winding-sheet the bluidy clay, Their graves are growing green to see; And by them lies the dearest lad That ever blest a woman’s ee! Now wae to thee, thou cruel lord, A bluidy man I trow thou be; For mony a heart thou hast made sair, That ne’er did wrang to thine or thee.’ O, WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST O, wert thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I’d shelter thee, I’d shelter thee. Or did misfortune’s bitter storms Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a’, to share it a’. Or were I in the wildest waste, Sae black and bare, sae black and bare, The desert were a paradise, If thou wert there, if thou wert there. Or were I monarch o’ the globe, Wi’ thee to reign, wi’ thee to reign, The brightest jewel in my crown Wad be my queen, wad be my queen. THE LASS O’ BALLOCHMYLE ’Twas even—the dewy fields were green, On every blade the pearls hang; The Zephyrs wanton’d round the bean, And bore its fragrant sweets alang: In every glen the Mavis sang, All nature listening seem’d the while: Except where green-wood echoes rang, Amang the braes o’ Ballochmyle. With careless step I onward stray’d, My heart rejoiced in nature’s joy, When musing in a lonely glade, A maiden fair I chanced to spy; Her look was like the morning’s eye, Her hair like nature’s vernal smile; Perfection whisper’d, passing by, Behold the lass o’ Ballochmyle!