Robert Nicoll

The Folk o’ Ochtergaen

Ochtergaen, so provincially named, is Auchtergaven, 
a village midway between Perth and Dunkeld.

HAPPY, happy be their dwallin’s,
  By the burn an’ in the glen,—	
Cheerie lasses, cantie callans,
  Are they a’ in Ochtergaen.

Happy was my youth amang them,
  Rantin’ was my boyhood’s hour;
A’ the winsome ways about them
  Now, when gane, I number o’er.

Weel I mind ilk wood an’ burnie,
  Couthie hame an’ muirland fauld,—
Ilka sonsie, cheerfu’ mither,
  An’ ilk father douce an’ auld!

Weel I mind the ploys an’ jokin’
  Lads and lasses used to ha’e,—
Moonlight trysts an’ Sabbath wanders
  O’er the haughs an’ on the brae.

Truer lads an’ bonnier lasses
  Never danced beneath the moon;
Love an’ Friendship dwelt amang them,
  An’ their daffin ne’er was done.

I ha’e left them now forever;
  But to greet would bairnly be:
Better sing, an’ wish kind Heaven
  Frae a’ dule may keep them free.

Where’er the path o’ life may lead me,
  Ae thing sure,—I winna mane
If I meet wi’ hands an’ hearts
  Like those o’ cantie Ochtergaen.