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A. C. FAIRLIE.
191
CHUMIE FAIR.
Oh! Chumie fair, my childhood's home,
While far from thee I now do roam,
Yet oft in fancy, oft in dreams
I wander by thy crystal streams.
Thy woodlands green, thy mountains grand
Rise as by touch of magic wand,—
Methinks I see thy waterfalls,
And hear thy wild dove's am'rous calls.
With fond remembrance do I cling
To where the sweet mimosas fling
Their rich perfume o'er hill and dale,
And scent the winds of summer gale.
Though other lands are fair to view,
And other skies are quite as blue,
Yet back to thee my soul doth roam,
O Chumie fair, my childhood's home.
A. C. Fairlie.
