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Poem by Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne * * * Air — "Happy Land." Songs of my native land, To me how dear! Songs of my infancy Sweet to mine ear! Entwined with my youthful days, Wi' the bonny banks and braes, Where the winding burnie strays Murmuring near. Strains of my native land That thrill the soul, Pouring the magic of Your soft control! Often has your minstrelsy Soothed the pang of misery, Winging rapid thought away To realms on high. Weary pilgrims there have rest, Their wand'rings o'er; There the slave, no more oppressed, Hails Freedom's shore. Sin shall there no more deface, Sickness, pain, and sorrow cease, Ending in eternal peace, And songs of joy! There, where the seraphs sing In cloudless day, — There, where the higher praise The ransom'd pay. Soft strains of the happy land, Chanted by the heavenly band, Who can fully understand How sweet ye be! Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne Carolina Oliphant, Lady Nairne's other poems:
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