A hearty welcome from an old Celt
Though far frae thee, my native shore,
And tossed on life's tempestuous ocean,
My heart-aye Scottish to the core-
Shall cling to thee wi' warm devotion.
And while the waving Heather grows,
And onward rows the winding river,
The toast be "Scotland's broomy knowes,
Her mountains, rocks, and glens forever!"
(Alexander Hume 1811 - 1859 )
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where I discuss the development of a novel.