Chapter 127 SONG No.127

They bid me sleep, they bid me pray,

They say my brain is warped and wrung-

I cannot sleep on Highland brae,

530 I cannot pray in Highland tongue.

But were I now where Allan glides,note

Or heard my native Devan's tides,

So sweetly would I rest, and pray

That Heaven would close my wintry day!

535 'Twas thus my hair they bade