And heathcocks in fair Landai.
O! I love thee, Islay green,
Of my youthful days the scene;
Where the best of men have been
Who loved the songs of Landai.
One of the finest songs in the language is Muile nam Mor Bheann, or Mull of the High Hills. On account of its peculiarity of metre, it does not lend itself readily to easy translation. Some of its verses run thus:—
In Mull of the woods there lives the maiden
For whom my poor heart is now love-laden:
Though dead be that love like joys of Eden
I woo no lasses in Cowal.