Braes o’ Balquhidder


Let us go, lassie go tae the braes o’ Balquhidder
Where the blaeberries grow ‘mang the bonnie Highland heather
Where the deer and the roe lightly bounding together
Sport the lang summer day ‘mang the braes o’ Balquhidder

I will twine thee a bower by the clear siller fountain,
And I’ll cover it o’er wi’ the flowers o’ the mountain;
I will range through the wilds and the deep glens sae dreary,
And return wi’ the spoils tae the bower o’ my dearie.

When the rude wintry win’ idly raves round our dwelling,
And the roar of the linn on the night-breeze is swelling;
Sae merrily we’ll sing as the storm rattles o’er us,
Till the dear shieling rings wi’ the light lilting chorus.

Now the summer’s in prime, wi’ the flowers richly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme a’ the moorlands perfuming;
To our dear native scenes let us journey together,
Where glad innocence reigns ‘mang the braes o’ Balquhidder

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