The Galloway Exile’s Dream.

By Heston

I dreamt yestreen o’ bracken’d braes

An’ scented glens in gowden shaw;

While sleepin’ soon’, ’neath South’rn moon

Far frae the muirs o’ Gallowa’.

I heard the whaup’s wild eerie wail,

I saw the mist ower Cairnsmore fa’;

O! for an hour by yon grey tower

Amang the muirs o’ Gallowa’.

I lilted ower and ower again

The sangs we aye liked best o’ a’,

Sweet “Mary’s Dream,” the sad refrain,

Link’d weel wi’ dreams o’ Gallowa’.

An’ it may be, that my auld e’en

May never look on Threave’s grey wa’,

Nor clim’ again in lichtsome vein

The heath-wrapp’d hills o’ Gallowa’.

Sae I will dream o’ bye-gane days,

An’ yon green graves ahin’ the wa’

O holy Anwoth; where the bays

Wave ower my kin’ in Gallowa’!