ONE evening walking out, I o'ertook a modest colleen, When the wind was blowing cool, and the harvest leaves were falling: "Is our way by chance the same? might we travel on together?" "Oh, I keep the mountain side," she replied, "among the heather." "Your mountain sir is sweet when the days are long and sunny, When the grass grows round the rocks, and the whin-bloom smells like honey; But the winter's coming fast with its foggy, snowy weather, And you'll find it bleak and chill on your hill, among the heather." She praised her mountain home, and I'll praise it too, with reason, For where Molly is there's sunshine and flow'rs at every season. Be the moorland black or white, does it signify a feather, Now I know the way by heart, every part, among the heather? The sun goes down in haste, and the night falls thick and stormy; Yet I'd travel twenty miles to the welcome that's before me; Singing hi! for Eskydun, in the teeth of wind and weather! Love'll warm me as I go through the snow, among the heather. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CATARINA TO CAMOENS by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING ROBINSON CRUSOE ['S STORY, OR ISLAND] by CHARLES EDWARD CARRYL SANDALPHON by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW THE CROPPY BOY: (A BALLAD OF '98) by WILLIAM B. MCBURNEY SAINT PAUL: 1 by FREDERICK WILLIAM HENRY MYERS THE TREE by BJORNSTJERNE MARTINIUS BJORNSON HIGH SUMMER by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN THE GEOGRAPHER'S GLORY; OR, THE GLOBE IN 1730 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |