Dinah Maria Craik

Coming Hame

      THE LIFT is high and blue,
      And the new moon glints through
The bonnie corn-stooks o’ Strathairly;
      My ship ’s in Largo Bay,
      And I ken it weel,—the way
Up the steep, steep brae of Strathairly.

      When I sailed ower the sea,—
      A laddie bold and free,—
The corn sprang green on Strathairly;
      When I come back again,
      ’T is an auld man walks his lane,
Slow and sad through the fields o’ Strathairly.

      Of the shearers that I see,
      Ne’er a body kens me,
Though I kent them a’ at Strathairly;
      And this fisher-wife I pass,
      Can she be the braw lass
That I kissed at the back of Strathairly?

      O, the land ’s fine, fine!
      I could buy it a’ for mine,
My gowd ’s yellow as the stooks o’ Strathairly;
      But I fain yon lad wad be,
      That sailed ower the salt sea,
As the dawn rose gray on Strathairly.