Alexander Anderson

1845-1909 / Scotland

Edzell Woods

The trees that shadow Alton Hall
Are sweet by night and day;
The silver gleams that slip and change
Along the rushing Tay,
They come and go like winds, but still,
Though each and all be rare,
I turn my face to Edzell woods,
Because my love is there.
O, Edzell woods are deep and green,
And very sweet to me;
The summer light lies golden bright
On all the fields I see.
Thy winds that wander by me speak
Of yet a sweeter air—
I turn my face to Edzell woods,
Because my love is there.
She moves in happy, household ways,
With gracious touch of hands;
Her eyes are full of quiet love,
And all its sweet commands.
Then what to me is all I see,
Though Alton Hall be fair,
I turn my face to Edzell woods,
Because my love is there.
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