Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, A SONG FOR THE HOT WINDS, by HARRIET MILLER DAVIDSON

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A SONG FOR THE HOT WINDS, by            
First Line: Oh for a breath o' the moorlands
Last Line: A whiff o' her caller air!
Subject(s): Australia; Home; Patriotism

OH for a breath o' the moorlands,
A whiff o' the caller air!
For the smell o' the flowerin' heather
My very heart is sair.

Oh for the sound o' the burnies
That whimple to the sea;
For the sight o' the browning bracken
On the hillside waving free!

Oh for the blue lochs cradled
In the arms o' mountains gray,
That smile as they shadow the drifting clouds
A' the bonny summer day!

Oh for the tops o' mountains
White wi' eternal snaw;
For the mists that drift across the lift;
For the strong east winds that blaw!

I am sick o' the blazing sunshine
That burns through the weary hours,
O' the gaudy birds singing never a song,
O' beautiful scentless flowers.

I wud gie a' the southern glory
For a taste o' a good saut wind,
Wi' a road ower the bonny sea before,
And a track o' foam behind.

Auld Scotland may be rugged,
Her mountains stern and bare;
But, oh for a breath o' her moorlands,
A whiff o' her caller air!

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