A cruel combination of circumstance
Once drew me from my native land.
I’ve often dreamt of misty glens
Of winter nights with kin and friends.
And, though, I never would return
My thoughts would with the wild stag run.
The watching by the salmon leap
The lochins where dark secrets sleep.
Within my blood your rivers flow
Within my heart such longings grow.
Though damp and cold would chill me there
I’d choose this land to anywhere…