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NEILSTON
(A Wanderer’s Thoughts)
Tae tourists wandering thro’ the land,
Seekins sights sae rare.
I’ll name the sweetest spot on earth,
In fact I’ll tell ye where.
We dinna seem tae sense it,
Till we wandered faur frae hame,
Then the bonniest spot on a’ the earth,
Is the easiest tae name.
Up the auld fashioned High Street,
Then alang the Kirkton Road,
Right by the Flush until ye turn,
The corner o’ the Dod.
Then think hoo’ thousands flock tae see,
Such lakes as Windermere,
While the ‘Glanderston” and “Craigie”
Make a throne for nature here.
Craigha’, Harelaw like mirrors bright,
Wad make a heart feel glad,
The “Snypes” a pool o’ beauty,
Lies neath the famous.... "Pad”.
The “Midge Hole Glen” by nature made,
Where fairies nightly play,
They’re aye adding something tae it,
For bonnier every day.
Take the “Killoch Glen” for beauty,
Then Killarney fades away,
Tho’ at hame ye canna sense it,
In your sicht there day.
But to yin whose been a wanderer,
Hoo the heart does proudly thrill,
When they come again tae Neilston,
That wee village on the hill.
ANON
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The Dark Isle
As mists of the evening creep over the hill
And the sea round about her is silent and still
Forbidden dark island so dreary and cold
What mysterious tales can your black rocks unfold
While fishermen row past your dark ocean shore
And old wives are spinning and praying once more
No falsehood to dread no malice you hold
You are sworn to your secrets of stories untold.
The old men will tell not a bird or a nest
At times not a seabird will stop there to rest
But you lie there in mist and cold watery waves
No harm is yet spoken no evil you show
Tis sacred you stand to folks long ago
No curses come from you or to you are shown
Just a lonely dark island a mysterious throne.
But tho' they've not seen they'll tell what they know
Of kings and of princes who died long ago
Who rest in your coves and still to this day
They are seen in your shadows and thru the sea spray
So toast to yon mountains and summits of blue
And here's to the glens and the meadows of dew
It's not of these hills or valleys I dream
But the lonely dark island the home of the kings
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