On Macgillycuddy's Reeks.

Those glorious mountain scalps,

The tiptops of the Alps,

I've seen—their pines and passes,

Their glaciers and crevasses—

With fools, philosophers and wits,

I've scrambled up the Ortler Spitz,

Made sketches on St. Gothard,

Like Turner and like Stothard,

And with my cara sposa