And round him press his flock, a woe-worn crowd.
To other words, while forest echoes ring—
'Ye banks and braes of bonny Doon,' they sing;
And far below, the drover, with a start
Awakening, listens to the well-known strain
Which brings Shihallian's shadow to his heart,
And Scotia's loneliest vales; then sleeps again,
And dreams on Lockley's banks of Dunsinane.
The hymn they sing is to their preacher dear:
It breathes of hopes and glories grand and vast: