My Ain Countrie

I am far frae my hame, an' I'm weary aften whiles,
for the langed for hamebring in', an' my Faither's welcome smiles;
An' I'll ne'er be fu' content, until mine een do see
The gowden gates o' heaven an' my ain countrie.
The earth is fleck'd wi flowers, monytinted, fresh an' gay;
The birdies warble blithely, for my Faither made them sae:
But these sights an' these soun's will as nae thing be to me,
When I hear the angels singin' in my ain countrie.

I've His gude word o' promise that some gladsome day, the King
To His ain royal palace His banished hame will bring;
Wi' een an' wi' hert rinnin' owre we shall see
The King in His beauty, in oor ain countrie.
My sins hae been mony, an' my sorrows hae been sair;
But there they'll never vex me, nor be remembered mair:
For His bluid has made me white, an' His han' shall dry my e'e,
When He brings me hame at last, to my ain countrie.

He is faithfu', that has promised, an' He'll surely come again,
He'll keep His tryst wi' me, at what oor I dinna ken,
But he bids me still to wait, an' ready aye to be,
To gang at ony moment to my ain countrie.
Sae I'm watchin aye, and singin' o' my hame, as I wait,
For the soun'in' o' His fitfa' this side the gowden gate:
God gie His grace to ilka ane wha' listens noo to me,
That we a' may gang in gladness to oor ain countrie.

MIDI sequence copyright © 1999 Brian M. Ames.