WILLIAM GARDINER.
Reading edition
William Gardiner, the author of "Scotland's Hills," was born at Perth about the year 1800. He established himself as a bookseller in Cupar-Fife. During a period of residence in Dundee, in acquiring a knowledge of his trade, he formed the acquaintance of the poet Vedder. With the assistance of this gifted individual, he composed his popular song of "Scotland's Hills." Introduced at a theatre in Dundee, it was received with marked approbation. It was first printed, in January 1829, in the Fife Herald newspaper, with a humorous preface by Vedder, and was afterwards copied into the Edinburgh Literary Gazette. It has since found a place in many of the collections of Scottish song, and has three different times been set to music.
Gardiner was unfortunate as a bookseller, and ultimately obtained employment in the publishing office of the Fife Herald. He died at Perth on the 4th July 1845. Some years before his death, he published a volume of original and selected compositions, under the title of "Gardiner's Miscellany." He was a person of amiable dispositions; and to other good qualities of a personal character, added considerable skill in music.
O SCOTLAND'S HILLS FOR ME![15]
O these are not my country's hills, Though they seem bright and fair; Though flow'rets deck their verdant sides, The heather blooms not there. Let me behold the mountain steep, And wild deer roaming free— The heathy glen, the ravine deep— O Scotland's hills for me! The rose, through all this garden-land, May shed its rich perfume, But I would rather wander 'mong My country's bonnie broom. There sings the shepherd on the hill, The ploughman on the lea; There lives my blithesome mountain maid, O Scotland's hills for me! The throstle and the nightingale May warble sweeter strains Than thrills at lovely gloaming hour O'er Scotland's daisied plains; Give me the merle's mellow note, The linnet's liquid lay; The laverocks on the roseate cloud— O Scotland's hills for me! And I would rather roam beneath Thy scowling winter skies, Than listlessly attune my lyre Where sun-bright flowers arise. The baron's hall, the peasant's cot Protect alike the free; The tyrant dies who breathes thine air; O Scotland's hills for me!