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Poem by James Hogg

Scotias Glens

MONG Scotias glens an mountains blue,
Where Gallias lilies never grew,
Where Roman eagles never flew,
    Nor Danish lions rallied;
Where skulks the roe in anxious fear,
Where roves the stately, nimble deer,
There live the lads to freedom dear,
    By foreign yoke neer galled.

There woods grow wild on every hill;
There freemen wander at their will;
Sure Scotland will be Scotland still
    While hearts so brave defend her.
Fear not, our Sovereign liege, they cry,
We ve flourished fair beneath thine eye;
For thee we ll fight, for thee we ll die,
    Nor aught but life surrender.

Since thou hast watched our every need,
And taught our navies wide to spread,
The smallest hair from thy gray head
    No foreign foe shall sever.
Thy honored age in peace to save,
The sternest host we ll dauntless brave,
Or stem the fiercest Indian wave,
    Nor heart nor hand shall waver.

Though nations join yon tyrants arm,
While Scotias noble blood runs warm,
Our good old man we ll guard from harm,
    Or fall in heaps around him.
Although the Irish harp were won,
And Englands roses all oerrun,
Mong Scotias glens with sword and gun,
    We ll form a bulwark round him.

James Hogg

James Hogg's other poems:
  1. The Braes of Bushby
  2. Cam Ye by Athole?
  3. Donald MacGillavry
  4. Sing on, Sing on
  5. Blessed Be Thy Name Forever

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