43766: Lewis, by John Mackay

A poem by John Mackay (Kershader and Saskatchewan), from the Stornoway Gazette, 14th October 1958.

They call thee bleak and dreary but you’re always dear to me
And now in my declining years I often think of thee;
‘Twas there I spent my happy youth, my childhood’s carefree days
I played among the heather on your bonnie hills and braes.

‘Tis now a few long years since I left you far to roam,
How well do I remember that pleasant April morn!
The mist had risen o’er the hills, the morning sun did’st smile
Oh fare thee well, I love you still, my own dear Lewis Isle.

The emblems of the dear old Isle, it grows on hill and moor.
It even thrives through rain and shine on the hills that I adore;
The heather with its purple bloom it filled my heart with joy
Along those braes on summer days when I was there a boy.

Those moss-clad trails and yonder knolls they bring my heart to thee
They bring me back to bye-gone days when at my parents’ knee
Their council’s been my guiding star, it shaped my destiny
I think of them with reverence and dear’s their memory.

As shadows fall over western plains, and evening sun sinks low
To the land of my adoption fond memories may go;
But memories often wander, and ever in my dreams
I turn to you my childhood’s home and well-remembered themes.

When smiling spring renews the year the lark sings to the morn
And through your glens the echo of the mavis’ song is borne;
When evenings turn to twilight with the moonlight on the foam
‘Tis then I’d like to wander my native island home.