Classic Poem

Out over the Forth, I look to the North,
But what is the North and its Highlands to me;
The South, nor the East, gie ease to my breast,
The far foreign land, or the wide rolling sea:
But I look to the West, when I gae to rest,
That happy my dreams and my slumbers may be;
For far in the West lives he I lo'e best,
The man that is dear to my babie and me.—