Hame

The warl it's dottit wi' hames         As thick as gowans o' the green,     Aye bonnier ilk ane nor the lave         To him wha there opent his een.     An' mony an' bonny's the hame         That lies neth auld Scotlan's crests,     Her hills an' her mountains they are the sides         O' a muckle nest o' nests.     His lies i' the dip o' a muir         Wi' a twa three elder trees,     A lanely cot wi' a sough o' win',         An' a simmer bum o' bees;     An' mine in a bloomin strath,         Wi' a river rowin by,     Wi' the green corn glintin i' the sun,         An' a lowin o' the kye;     An' yours whaur the chimleys auld         Stan up i' the gloamin pale     Wi' the line o' a gran' sierra drawn         On the lift as sharp's wi' a nail.     But whether by ingle-neuk         On a creepie ye sookit yer thumb,     Dreamin, an' watchin the blue peat-reek         Wamle oot up the muckle lum,     Or yer wee feet sank i' the fur         Afore a bleezin hearth,     Wi' the curtains drawn, shuttin oot the toon--         Aberdeen, Auld Reekie, or Perth,     It's a naething, nor here nor there;         Leal Scots are a'ane thegither!     Ilk ane has a hame, an' it's a' the same         Whether in clover or heather!     An' the hert aye turns to the hame--         That's whaur oor ain folk wons;     An' gien hame binna hame, the hert bauds ayont         Abune the stars an' the suns.     For o' a' the hames there's a hame         Herty an' warm an' wide,     Whaur a' that maks hame ower the big roun earth         Gangs til its hame to bide.