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If willie can do it ......so can i !! The ocean breeze that catches your face. The coals of the fire translucent in their place. Hearing dogs in the mist and pride in the pipes. Seeing wisdom in the clouds and stars in the night. When all of this alone is old & of the past. The Scottish heart will beat still and bear the strenth & love to last. |
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Patriotic poetry...
Okay then, some exiled poetry?
Scattered out to the world like the stars of the night the children of Scotland faced hunger and fight and settled on foreign and barren shores far away from sweet heather and mist-covered moors. No heart could forget, though the new life was good, Where the pride and the honour had their ancient roots, The songs and the legends of Lomond and Tay made their dreams and emotions live on till today. No money or riches could ever purchase the secretful pride of the old Scottish race, the smell of the heather, the song of the lark, the bright northern light that sweeps through the dark. When the stormwinds of Scotland sweep over the main To call home the children of Alba again With sounds of the pipes and of ancient song The Scottish will go where their heart does belong. Hehehe, that's pathetic, isn't it? |
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