There's a wee, wee glen in the Hielan's,
Where I fain, fain would be;
There's an auld kirk there on the hillside
I weary sair to see.
In a low lythe nook in the graveyard
Drearily stands alane,
Marking the last lair of a’ I lo'ed,
A wee moss-covered stane.
There's an auld hoose sits in a hollow
Half happit by a tree;
At the door the untended lilac
Still blossoms for the bee;
But the auld roof is sairly seggit,
There's nane now left to care;
And the thatch ance sae neatly stobbit
Has lang been scant and bare.
Aft as I lie‘ neath a foreign sky
In dreams I see them a’ —
The auld dear kirk, the dear auld hame,
The glen sae far awa’.
Dreams flee at dawn, and the tropic sun
Nae ray o’ hope can gie;
I wander on o'er the desert lone,
There's nae mair hame for me.