Caledonia.

Tune - "Humours of Glen." I. Their groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume; Far dearer to me yon lone glen o' green brockan, Wi' the burn stealing under the lang yellow broom: Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers, Where the blue-bell and gowan lurk lowly unseen; For there, lightly tripping amang the wild flowers, A listening the linnet, aft wanders my Jean. II. Tho' rich is the breeze in their gay sunny valleys, And cauld CALEDONIA'S blast on the wave; Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud palace, What are they? - The haunt of the tyrant and slave! The slave's spicy forests, and gold-bubbling fountains, The brave Caledonian views wi' disdain; He wanders as free as the winds of his mountains, Save love's willing fetters, the chains o' his Jean.