Poem by Eliza Cook

Galla Brae

O, TELL me, did ye ever see
  Sweet Galla on a simmer night,
When ilka star had oped its e’e,
  An’ tipped the broom wi’ saft, pale light?
Ye ’d never gang toward the town,
  Ye wadna like the flauntie day,
If ance ye saw the moon blink down
  Her bonnie beams on Galla Brae.

A’ silent, save the whimplin tune,
  The win ’s asleep, nae leaflet stirs:
O, gie me Galla ’neath the moon,
  Its siller birk, and gowden furze.
There ’s monie anither leesome glen,
  But let ’em talk o’ whilk they may,
O’ a’ the rigs an’ shaws I ken,
  There ’s nane sae fair as Galla Brae.

I crept a wee thing ’mang its heath,
  A laughing laddie there I strayed;
I roved beside its burnie’s tide
  In morning air an’ gloaming shade:
Its gowans were the first I pu’d,
  An’ still my leal heart loves it sae,
That when I dee, nae grave would be
  Sic hallowed earth as Galla Brae.

1. St. Patrick’s Day
2. The Thames
3. Song of the Sailor Boy
4. Grey-Eyed Mabel
5. Teddy O'Neale

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