The clouds lay heavy on Clebrig's crest,
For days and weeks together;
The shepherds along Strath-Terry's side
Cursed at the rainy weather;
They scarce could get a favouring day
For the burning of the heather.
When sudden the clouds were rent in twain
And the hill laughed out to the sun;
And the hinds stole up, with wondering eyes,
To the far slopes yellow and dun;