Alexander Anderson

1845-1909 / Scotland

The Hills Aroon' Oor Ain Wee Toon

The hills aroon' oor ain wee toon
Are no' like ither hills to me,
They're sweet to see in simmer licht,
An' sweet when winter sweeps the lea.
They dinna change, but year by year
They dearer grow an' look mair braw;
The hills aroon' oor ain bit toon,
Are no' like ither hills ava.
What though they talk o' ither hills
That lift their tappans to the sky,
An' catch a glisk o' richer licht
To please the passing stranger's eye.
I wadna gi'e oor ain green hills
Though half the year they lay in snaw;
The hills aroon' oor ain bit toon,
Are no' like ither hills ava.
For boyhood lends to sober age
The past that saw them long ago;
They rise within oor dreams, and fill
That fairy land with fairy glow.
What hopes we had when life was high,
Still took their licht, though far awa',
The hills aroon' oor ain bit toon,
Are no' like ither hills ava.
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