Knights tourneying within Glen-Tilt,
Hear Roderick Dhu and brave Fitz-James
Calling each other dreadful names,
And see them chase, through bosky dells
The hart that “in the Highlands” dwells.
Oh, if some friend would pay my fare,
How “like a bird” I’d wander there!
III.
The meal was over at Pittenweem;
The monks had gone to their cells to dream,