And that,” said he, “is my story.”
Again, whenever the kerne plays his harp the Highlander says:—
“He could play tunes and oirts and orgain,
Trampling things, tightening strings,
Warriors, heroes, and ghosts on their feet,
Ghosts and souls and sickness and fever,
That would set in sound lasting sleep
The whole great world,
With the sweetness of the calming[8] tunes