(Eliza Cook)






Galla Brae


O, TELL me, did ye ever see
  Sweet Galla on a simmer night,
When ilka star had oped its ee,
  An tipped the broom wi saft, pale light?
Ye d never gang toward the town,
  Ye wadna like the flauntie day,
If ance ye saw the moon blink down
  Her bonnie beams on Galla Brae.

A silent, save the whimplin tune,
  The win s asleep, nae leaflet stirs:
O, gie me Galla neath the moon,
  Its siller birk, and gowden furze.
There s monie anither leesome glen,
  But let em talk o whilk they may,
O a the rigs an shaws I ken,
  There s nane sae fair as Galla Brae.

I crept a wee thing mang its heath,
  A laughing laddie there I strayed;
I roved beside its burnies tide
  In morning air an gloaming shade:
Its gowans were the first I pud,
  An still my leal heart loves it sae,
That when I dee, nae grave would be
  Sic hallowed earth as Galla Brae.






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