GLENARA
Oh! heard ye yon pibroch sound sad in the gale,
Where a band cometh slowly with weeping and wail?
’Tis the Chief of Glenara laments for his dear,
And her sire and the people are called to her bier.
Glenara came first, with the mourners and shroud;
Her kinsmen they followed, but mourned not aloud.
Their plaids all their bosoms were folded around;
They marched all in silence,—they looked on the ground.