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LISTEN to me, as when ye heard our father
Sing long ago the song of other shores
Listen to me, and then in chorus gather
All your deep voices as ye pull your oars:
Fair these broad meadsthese hoary woods are grand;
But we are exiles from our fathers land.
From the lone shieling of the misty island
Mountains divide us, and the waste of seas
Yet still the blood is strong, the heart is Highland,
And we in dreams behold the Hebrides;
Fair these broad meads, &c.
We neer shall tread the fancy-haunted valley,
Where tween the dark hills creeps the small clear stream,
In arms around the patriarch banner rally,
Nor see the moon on royal tombstones gleam:
Fair these broad meads, &c.
When the bold kindred, in the time long-vanishd,
Conquerd the soil and fortified the keep,
No seer foretold the children would be banishd,
That a degenerate Lord might boast his sheep:
Fair these broad meads, &c.
Come foreign ragelet Discord burst in slaughter!
O then for clansmen true, and stern claymore
The hearts that would have given their blood like water,
Beat heavily beyond the Atlantic roar:
Fair these broad meadsthese hoary woods are grand;
But we are exiles from our fathers land.
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