Between us a foam-sheet impassable flows—
The wrath and the hatred of clans who are foes;
But love, like the oak, while the tempest it braves,
The firmer will root it, the fiercer it raves.
Not seldom thine eye from the watch-tower shall hail,
In the red of the sunrise the gleam of my sail,
And lone is the valley, and thick is the grove,
And green is the bower, that is sacred to love!
The snows shall turn black on high Cruachan Ben,
And the heath cease to purple fair Sonachan glen,
And the breakers to foam, as they dash on Tiree,
When the heart in this bosom beats faithless to thee!
LAMENT FOR MACRIMMON.
Mist wreathes stern Coolin like a cloud,
The water-wraith is shrieking loud,
And blue eyes gush with tears that burn,
For thee—who shall no more return!
Macrimmon shall no more return,
Oh never, never more return!
Earth, wrapt in doomsday flames, shall burn,
Before Macrimmon home return!
The wild winds wail themselves asleep,
The rills drop tear-like down the steep,
In forest glooms the songsters mourn,
For thee—who shall no more return!
Macrimmon shall no more return, &c.
Even hoar old Ocean joins our wail,
Nor moves the boat, though bent with sail;
Fierce shrieking gales the breakers churn,
For thee—who shall no more return!
Macrimmon shall no more return, &c.
No more, at eve, thy harp in hall
Shall from the tower faint echoes call;
There songless circles vainly mourn
For thee—who shall no more return!
Macrimmon shall no more return, &c.
Thou shalt return not from afar
With wreaths of peace, or spoils of war;
Each breast is but affection's urn
For thee—who shall no more return!
Macrimmon shall no more return,
Oh never, never more return!
Earth, wrapt in doomsday flames, shall burn,
Before Macrimmon home return!