Blackford Hill

The man wha lues fair nature's charms,
   Let him gae to Blackford hill;
And wander there amang the craigs,
   Or down aside the rill;
That murmuring thro the peblis plays,
   And banks whar daisies spring;
While, fra ilk bush and tree, the birds
   In sweetest concert sing.

The lintie the sharp treble sounds;
   The laverock tenor plays;
The blackbird and the mavis join
   To form a solemn base:
Sweet Echo the loud air repeats,
   Till a the valley rings;
While odorous scents the westlin wind
   Frae thousand wild flowers brings.

The Hermitage aside the burn
   In shady covert lyes,
Frae Pride and Folly's noisy rounds
   Fit refuge for the wise;
Wha there may study as they list,
   And pleasures taste at will,
Yet never leave the varied bounds
   Of bonny Blackford Hill.

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Copyright © 2001, Jack Campin