Verse > Anthologies > > Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. > The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse
Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp.  The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse.  1922.
By Walter Chalmers Smith (1824–1908)
THERE is no fire of the crackling boughs
    On the hearth of our fathers,
There is no lowing of brown-eyed cows
    On the green meadows,
Nor do the maidens whisper vows        5
    In the still gloaming,
There is no bleating of sheep on the hill
    Where the mists linger,
There is no sound of the low hand-mill        10
    Ground by the women,
And the smith’s hammer is lying still
    By the brown anvil,
Ah! we must leave thee and go away        15
    Far from Ben Luibh,
Far from the graves where we hoped to lay
    Our bones with our fathers’,
Far from the kirk where we used to pray
    Lowly together,        20
We are not going for hunger of wealth,
    For the gold and silver,
We are not going to seek for health
    On the flat prairies,        25
Nor yet for the lack of fruitful tilth
    On thy green pastures,
Content with the croft and the hill were we,
    As all our fathers,        30
Content with the fish in the lake to be
    Carefully netted,
And garments spun of the wool from thee,
    O black-faced wether
      Of Glenaradale!        35
No father here but would give a son
    For the old country,
And his mother the sword would have girded on
    To fight her battles:
Many ’s the battle that has been won        40
    By the brave tartans,
But the big-horn’d stag and his hinds, we know,
    In the high corries,
And the salmon that swirls in the pool below        45
    Where the stream rushes
Are more than the hearts of men, and so
    We leave thy green valley,

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