Oh to see the misty Isle
From on the ferry crossing the Kyle
And oh to stand beside the loch
Amidst the baaing bleating flock
I`ll walk Dunvegans lovely shore
To Coral Beach forevermore.
Oh to see the Cuillin Hills
Black and Rugged clouded still
And see the hills of granite red
Towering above my head
The purple heather growing there
Surrounds Sligachan everywhere.
Oh to hear the Eagle`s cry
The Oyster Catcher flying by
To watch the seals on island homes
With young that are not fully grown
And watch the Otters at their play
Around the lochs and in the bay.
Oh to see the dawning light
On Bracadale the sunset bright
To see the shafts descend upon
The Tables of Macleod beyond
And find a certain comfort there
Surpassing mundane life and care.
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