Fair Ellen, here again I stand-- All dangers now are o'er; No sigh to reach my native land Shall rend my bosom more. Ah! oft, beyond the heaving main, I mourn'd at Fate's decree; I wish'd but to be back again To Scotland and to thee.
O Ellen, how I prized thy love In foreign lands afar! Upon my helm I bore thy glove Through thickest ranks of war: And as a pledge, in battle-field, Recall'd thy charms to me; I breath'd a prayer behind my shield For Scotland and for thee.
I scarce can tell how eagerly My eyes were hither cast, When, faintly rising o'er the sea, These hills appear'd at last. My very breast, as on the shore I bounded light and free, Declared by throbs the love I bore To Scotland and to thee.
Oh, long, long has the doom been mine In other climes to roam; Yet have I seen no form like thine, No sweeter spot than home; Nor ask'd I e'er another heart To feel alone for me: O Ellen, never more I'll part From Scotland and from thee!
The breath o' spring is gratefu', As mild it sweeps alang, Awakening bud an' blossom The broomy braes amang, And wafting notes o' gladness Frae ilka bower and tree; Yet the bonnie Redesdale lassie Is sweeter still to me.
How bright is summer's beauty! When, smilin' far an' near, The wildest spots o' nature Their gayest livery wear; And yellow cups an' daisies Are spread on ilka lea; But the bonnie Redesdale lassie Mair charming is to me.
Oh! sweet is mellow autumn! When, wide oure a' the plain, Slow waves in rustlin' motion The heavy-headed grain; Or in the sunshine glancin', And rowin' like the sea; Yet the bonnie Redesdale lassie Is dearer far to me!
As heaven itsel', her bosom Is free o' fraud or guile; What hope o' future pleasure Is centred in her smile! I wadna lose for kingdoms The love-glance o' her e'e; Oh! the bonnie Redesdale lassie Is life and a' to me!
I pray for you, of your courtesy, before we further move, Let me look back and see the place that I so dearly love. I am not old in years, yet still, where'er I chanced to roam, The strongest impulse of my heart was ever link'd with home: There saw I first the light of heaven--there, by a mother's knee, In time of infancy and youth, her love supported me: All that I prize on earth is now my aching sight before, And glen and brae, and moorland gray, I'll witness never more.