“RORY MOR’S LAMENT.”
Sir Roderick Mac Leod of Dunvegan, who died somewhere about 1630, was a man of noble spirit, celebrated for great military prowess and resource. His hospitality was unbounded, and he was in all respects entitled to be called Mòr or great, in all the qualities that went to constitute a great Highland chief and leader of men. The Gaelic bards were enthusiastic in his praises, and his piper, Patrick Mòr Mac Crimmon—the same Mac Crimmon presumably—taking his death very much to heart, could not live at Dunvegan afterwards. Shouldering his great pipe, he made for his own house at Boreraig, composing and playing as he went Cumha Ruaraidh Mhoir (Rory Mòr’s Lament), which is considered the most melodious, feeling, and melancholy lament known. The following are some of the words, translated by “Fionn”:—
“Give me my pipes, I’ll home them carry,
In these sad halls I dare not tarry,
My pipes hand o’er, my heart is sore,
For Rory Mor, my Rory Mor.
Fetch me my pipes, my heart is breaking,
For Rory Mor his rest is taking,
He walks no more, and to its core
My heart is sore for Rory Mor.