In quiet slumber I went once more to bonnie Scotland, that lovely
land where I was born. To feel again the gentle softness of the
falling rain, like dew that's gathered on the wafting cloud. To
bid the sun farewell and watch the mist creep slowly o'er the
friendly hills. To see the stately weeping willows gently dip to
ripple the cool clear water of the softly flowing burn.
To watch the graceful swans glide by in silent beauty undisturbed
To hear the sweet song of the lovely lark as she soars on high
and recall to mind the mavis and the thrush.
To see again the fields of golden grain and a harvest moon light
the sky like a ball of molten flame.
To tread again in dreams many long-forgotten paths and with
a heart that's feather light, run amongst the bonnie purple
To once again be one with God and rejoice in the wonders of
Nature and give thanks for the wonderful gift of memory.