Bells upon the city are ringing in the night; High above the gardens are the houses full of light; On the heathy Pentlands is the curlew flying free, And the broom is blowing bonnie in the north countrie. It's ill to break the bonds that God decreed to bind, Still we'll be the children of the heather and the wind. Far away from home, O, it's still for you and me That the broom is blowing bonnie in the north countrie! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO ROSAMONDE: A BALADE by GEOFFREY CHAUCER TO A YOUNG ASS; ITS MOTHER BEING TETHERED NEAR IT by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE TOMORROW by FELIX LOPE DE VEGA CARPIO WINTER HEAVENS by GEORGE MEREDITH OVERHEARD ON A SALTMARSH by HAROLD MONRO MOST LOVELY SHADE; FOR ALICE BOUVERIE by EDITH SITWELL THE BURIAL-MARCH OF THE DUNDEE by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN VOID IN LAW by ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING EPITAPH ON LEVI LINCOLN THAXTER; INSCRIBED ON A ROCK ABOVE THE GRAVE by ROBERT BROWNING |