Grey mists of a morning; br Wild Winter’s adorning, br All forest, woodland and sea. br Black clouds on the headland br Rain falls on the wet sand - br A raven sits high in his tree. br br O give me the heather br No matter the weather br Wild purple on Merrick’s fair hill - br O give me the breeze br Thru gold-yellow trees br My heart is ever there still br br Green grass is all white frost br Gold bracken’s now compost br Trees are as bare as a bone: br The glen has no cover br For pheasant or plover br The wind in the wires does moan. br br There’s geese in the stubble br Craggy cliffs crack with rubble br The cry of sea-birds is gone: br Waves break on the shore br Casting spray aft and fore br The storm rages on and on. br br Let the Seasons all roll br And the Winter extoll, br That Hope is an evergreen: br Nature’s wild and majestic br And other places domestic br Compared to my Galloway scene.