Hail Dreary November

Hail! dreary November,
Full well I remember,
Thy wild roaring tempest, when I was a child,
My heart ne'er was weary,
My face was aye cheery,
The loud roaring lynn, and the mountains so wild.


The wild raving thunder,
The woods rolling under,
The lake rolling billows, like waves of the sea,
Tis the music of nature,
In her stormiest feature,
But the sweetest of music, is freedom for me.


Where the muir cock is housing,
And the black cattle browsing,
And the tempest is misting, o'er mountain and glen,
There I think o' sweet Jinney,
My joy and my hinney,
Oh I mourn, that I ever left Scotland agen.

Hail! dreary November,
Thy storms I remember,
That roar'd round the shieling, when I was a child,
I still love thy mountains,
Thy lakes and thy fountains,
Thy maidens so lovely, and valleys so wild —
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