The Ghost Of Robert Burns

When a keen wind sweeps down
From the Highlands in Spring
You might see a ghost
Rising like mist from old Alloway Kirk
And a’ roving there still…

His footsteps flow smooth
Like ink at the stroke of a quill
His spectral eyes gaze
‘Pon the land he so loved…

Poet, where is thy heart?
Linger a while and sing me thy song!
But his heart’s in the Highlands
His heart is not here
His heart’s in the Highlands
Racing alongside the deer!

With quickening pulse
I follow the ghost
Skipping through time
With the Bard of Ayrshire:

He takes me to see
The bonnie young lass
I never knew was waiting for me
In the home of my dreams
Poet, where is thy heart?
Linger a while and sing me thy song!
But his heart’s in the Highlands
His heart is not here
His heart’s in the Highlands
Racing alongside the deer!

He offers a bottle and an honest friend
Saying, “What wad ye wish for mair, man?”
He counsels my heart when it comes to lost love
“Who loses her shall gain
Those memories without a stain”..

And when the whiskey’s drank
When the fire’s glow is spent and done
I must depart, back o’er the hills
But keep a lookout on yonder horizon line
And look again for my coming
When dawn shall break, waking old lang syne!