Google Book Search found this in "One Hundred Modern Scottish Poets", Brechin: D. H. Edwards, 1880:

THE WEE SPRIG O' HEATHER
John Macfarlane

O! wae on the gowd wi' its glamour beguilin'
The bravest frae Scotia across the saut sea,
An' wae on dame fortune sae fause wi' her smilin',
For cauld, cauld the pleasure at best she can gie;
But aye to heart that is leal mair endearin',
A message o' love frae the land far awa',
When aften it comes like a sun-blink sae cheerin',
A wee sprig o' heather sae withered an' sma'.

The emigrant dreams o' his hame in the gloamin',
An' wanders in fancy some wild glen sae green,
His thochts are the purest wi' mem'ry when roamin',
The land where the bluebell an' thistle are seen;
An' aften the gloom that enshrouds him brings beamin',
Affection's sweet token dispellin' it a',
As biichtly in darkness the starnie is gleamin',
A sprig o' his ain native heather sae sma'.

The burnie, that's glidin' sae sweetly an' singin',
Awa frae its hame in the mountain sae high,
Ne'er kens in its mirth that the future is bringin'
The tempest an' roar o' the dark tossin' sea;
An' sae wi' the lad owre the ocean careerin'.
Like strains frae the harp are the winds when the blaw,
Till wearit the bricht sun o' hope disappearin'
He langs for a tuft o' the heather sae sma'.