And brightly glow’d her ardent spirit there,
Still brightest midst privation: o’er distress
It cast romantic splendour, and despair
But fann’d that beacon of the wilderness;
And rude ravine, and precipice, and dell
Sent their deep echoes forth, her rallying voice to swell.
L.
Dark children of the hills! ’twas then ye wrought
Deeds of fierce daring, rudely, sternly grand;
As midst your craggy citadels ye fought,