AT REST, WHERE HEATHER BLOOMS. 



At Rest, Where Heather Blooms 



Then when life's long day is closing, and mem- 

 ories of old come thronging back upon his wistful 

 fancy, with them not seldom creeps into the tired heart 

 of the aged Scotsman the timid desire to die in some 

 spot where in his last moments his eyes may be 

 gladdened with the sight of the Heather, in the fresh 

 beauty that his childhood fancy wrapped around it; 

 and to be buried where the bonnie purple bell may 

 bloom above his grave. 



Scotland Dear 



When I shall die, O I wad lie 

 Where life an' me first met thegither, 

 That my cauld clay, through its decay, 

 Might bloom again in the mountain heather. 

 Scotland dear ! 



Alex. Hume. 



Scotland's Hills 



Oh ! these are not my country's hills, 



Though they look bright and fair; 

 Though flowers deck their verdant sides, 



The heather blooms not there. 

 Let me behold the mountains steep, 



And wild deer roaming free, 

 The heathy glen, the ravine deep: 



Oh ! Scotland's hills for me ! 

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