"My Highland Home" - Robert W. Service

My Highland Home

My mother spun the household wool,
And all our kiddy clothes would make;
I used to go barefoot to school,
While bannock took the place of cake.
One shirt a week was all I had,
Our home was just a but-and-ben;
But oh I was the proudful lad,
And life was rich with promise then.

Although I supped on milk and brose,
And went to bed by candle-light,
I pored on books of noble prose,
And longed like Bobbie Burns to write.
Now in this age of the machine
I look back three-score years and ten:
With life so simple, sane and clean,
Oh were we not more happy then?

We deemed not of electric light,
Nor ever thought that we would fly;
Our sons were not called up to fight,
And in a foreign field to die.
So now when threats of war appall,
And millions cower to monster men,
Friends, don't you think that, after all,
We were a heap more happy then?

Robert William Service