Blue weather, blue weather abroad on the moors, And the cry of the wind that elates and allures; Sing “hey” and sing “ho” for the heather! The brook in the bracken, it prattles and purls, And the lips of the rose are as red as a girl’s; Sing “hey” and sing “ho” for the heather! And the path that leads up from the stile at the start Is the path of my longing, the path of my heart; Sing “hey” and sing “ho” for the heather! For I know I shall find her, my fair heather-bell, In the warm little dip at the crest of the fell, And her smile, ah, the burden of love it will tell! Sing “hey” and sing “ho” for the heather! |