I Don’t Know Why

Sometimes I see the lofty braes,
Fine clothed with heather high,
And strangely long to endless stray
It’s steeps, and don’t know why.

Sometimes I hear the bagpipes roar,
And hear a primal cry
That makes me stirred to charge the foe
At arms, and don’t know why.

Sometimes I see the rushing burn,
His Lintie nested nigh;
His bonnie tune, my fancy turn
To go, and don’t know why.

Yon Alba, I know not the force
That draws me like the tide,
That pulls me from my shore to yours,
The mystery to confide.

Charles Church 2/16/2020