There be stanes an’ tones
frae this braw land
that compose honest hope
in our aging hearts.
Frae distant hills an’ glens
we longing sing
the echoing sangs o’ auld
that nane may forget
how crews o’ shattered ghaists
sailed lonely caravels
ower the cauld an’ angry main
seeking warmth an’ chance.
Yet frae aneath the weight
o’ solemn centuries
still we maste emphatic cry
that this is our hame.
Alba gu bràth!
[Perhaps I should explain a bit, just in case the language seems unclear:
stanes = stones
frae = from
braw = fine
sangs = songs
auld = old
nane = none
ghaists = ghosts
ower = over
cauld = cold
main = the open sea
aneath = beneath, under
maste = most
hame = home
Alba gu bràth. = Scotland forever. [literally, Scotland until the Judgement.]
George Ellington 
do people speak this way in the modern world? (forgive my ignorance, please)
LikeLiked by 2 people
No worries, mate. This is how people speak when they recite Burns. Not to compare myself to him. Although I do use older terms that are still spoken, mostly in the Highlands. You wouldn’t hear this walking the streets of Edinburgh. Although I wish you could.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Glorious 🖤🖤
LikeLiked by 1 person
Cheers, Charmer.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful, and I love that ending… for some reason, though it’s a different story, this reminds me of a favourite song by Dead Can Dance, “I sat me in the valley green.” Nostalgic and patriotic romance.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Beautiful
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Tina.
LikeLiked by 1 person