I love thee Muirkirk; for thy heath cover'd soil,
Thick-seam'd with the scars of industrious toil,
Well merits the title, that's dearest to me,
The Home of the Happy, the land of the Free.
Thy mountains around thee, in grandeur preside,
And seemingly wave with a motion of pride,
When the lengthening shadows, extending at will,
The pearly dew-drops on this summit distill,
The Wild-Thyme, and heather-bells fragrance diffusing
Bloom cheerily round, in sweet concert suffusing,
The light-floating Zephyr, that wantons in fleetness,
With free flowing essence - a rich balmy sweetness,
Wide over the ridges the "Fleecy Tribes," wander,
And down in the Gorges, when streamlets meander,
The playful young lambkins, are frisking, and bounding,
Each green, scooping valley, with bleatings resounding.
The Heath-fowl discordant, repenteth her cry,
The Lapwings light-skimming, are wheeling on high,
The heather-girt hillocks with Plovers are teaming,
And far in the distance, the Curlew is screaming,
And down in the valleys where bright wakes the morning,
Resplendent in glory, the woodlands adorning,
Blithe nature assumes her most ravishing grace,
And Summer, and Verdan meet, linger, embrace.

Long, long may the gales of Prosperity blow,
And fun unremitting the wild ruddy glow,
Of thy furnaces lined with the rich smelting ore,
The blaze of the Future more bright than before,
In these all our wealth, and prosperity lie
Extinguish'd, our standard of greatness would die,
The Mainspring of action - the Basis of Trade,
All here is unking'd when their luster doth fade,
How I love in my rambles when midnight is nigh
To follow the flashes traversing the sky -
To mark the red flames as they burst forth amain,
And lick up the darkness that creeps o'er the plain
I love thee Muirkirk, tho' a stranger I be
For the ties of affection have knit me to thee,
Thy mountain girt valleys how dear to my view
And sweet all reflections connected to you.