Emigrant's Farewell.

My native Caledonia, my heart heaves a sigh,
As on thy hills sae bonnie I gaze with lingering eye.

Land of my childhood, and my youth,
Land of the brave and free;
Land of love and land of truth.
How dear art thou to me.

My wayward fancy bids me roam,
To seek a foreign shore;
My clearest friends and native home
I may ne'er see them more.

But still, though on a foreign land,
My thoughts shall rest on thee;
And on the highest hill I'll stand,
And gaze across the sea.

For Ah! Affection's tender spring,
No ocean wave can sever;
But I'll sit me down, and loud I'll sing.
Auld Scotland, live forever!

[Postscript.]

'Tis true I love those distant shores.
Whereon I spent my youthful hours?
But still I can with equal fire
Otago hills and dells admire.

More genial climes and purer skies.
More verdant hills transcendent rise;
Embroidered o'er with varied hue,
Fantastic, yet to Nature true.
The wimpling rill and gurgling stream,
And flowing river fill the scene,
And thou! whose voice my heart's blood warms
How shall I sing thy artless charms?
Fair daughter of a worthy dame,
Of ancient and historic fame;
As yet no domes or gilded spires.
Or massive column greet the eyes;
Yet still in embryo I can see
The germs of future life in thee.
Then, onward! let thy motto be
Emblazoned on your heraldry;
Onward! Onward! sons of toil,
Hew down these woods, dig up the soil.
Then, soon out o'er the smiling plains
En masse shall wave the golden grain;
Unnumbered flocks and herds shall roam
Around those hills, around thy home,
And round thy cottage porch shall twine
The luscious fig and clustered vine.
And peace and plenty round thy hearth,
With other joys of heavenly birth
Hold their benignant sway;
But only this you keep in view
That toil must lead the way.