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Unique Cottages | Electric Scotland's Classified Directory

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Unto The Hills
Wind and Rain


ALONG the yellow sands,
Across the faery isles,
The rain in silver strands


Is blown for miles and miles.
Like straws before the gale
The shining threads are tossed --
And softly, sadly wail
The voices of the lost
Lovers of hills again
Through all the broken land…
But Memory calls in vain –-
The hills in silence stand.

Yet, though the mountains sleep,
The hollow melody
Is answered by the deep
Booming of the sea.


A Mull Sunset, Firth of Lorne in foreground


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