The
Hebrides
Isles
of the misty west
Set in the sapphire seas
Out where the swift tide flows -
Green are the Hebrides.
Ringed
with the soft white sand -
Rocks where the grey seal lie -
Clear runs the ebbing tide
O'er which the sea-gulls fly.
Soft
is the scented breeze
Whisp'ring 'cross the hill;
Sheep crop the short sweet grass
And clover is blooming still.
Blue
in the distant haze
Afloat on the sparkling sea,
Quiet lie the isles, asleep
Lulled by the whisp'ring breeze.
Barra,
Mull, Colonsay,
Staffa, Iona and Rhum,
Magic is in their names
And they call to me to come.
Frances
Reed
Poems of the Highlands and Islands