View source for The Hills Far Out By

This is from a cutting found in the Heritage Centre donations to the collections - provenance and date unknown, author unmarked. (Ed: I cannot find this poem via a Google search)

Oh warble sweet songster on the high mountain crest<br>
That springs from the bent with the dew on thy brest<br>
As away on the wing then wilt merrily fly<br>
For thou loves the sweet rills of the hills far out by

The hark to the sound of the burn running near<br>
Where low in the vale it runs wimping and clear<br>
And away in the distance the shepherd I'll spy<br>
Close herding his flock on the hills far out by

Then pausing a moment and musing I'll stand<br>
To view from some peak our grand Borderland<br>
Where curlews and plovers to there fair mates reply<br>
As they brood in there nests on the hills far out by

I dream not of laurels in the valleys below<br>
Nor yet of the bluebells in the hedge rows aglow<br>
But give me the fells were the fleecy flocks lie<br>
In a snug little spot on the hills far out by

The rich I don't envy though happy and free<br>
But give me the fells with a collie with me<br>
Then the mosses and flowers we would gladly descry<br>
And take a fond lot at the hills far out by

Now after all's written and close put in line<br>
I'll hie my way back to Wark on the Tyne<br>
Where long may I wander the hills standing high<br>
And reviving my hopes o'er the hills far out by
[[Category:Songs and Poems]]