Unknown - Highlands

Ofttimes though I was ’neath the brightest of skies,

In dreams I revisit my dear native shore;

Wherever he wanders, O Scotia, still sighs

Thy love for thy highlands he looks on no more!

Thy highlands! thy highlands! the loch & the glory

Where the kilt & the tartan & bonnets of blue

Are worn by the bravest & boldest of men,

In dreams still I chase the wild red deer at morn,

Exultant and strong in the free mountain air,

While the rocks echo back the shrill blast of the horn,

And the sport is cheered on by the glance of the fair!

Clear lakes, azure skies, & peaks covered with snow,

From which the oak-hearted look down on the plain,

With the friends of my youth, loved in sunshine & rain,

Yet in dreams—O but dreams!—I there wander again!