Blair Collection > Selections from the Gaelic bards

252 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS.
Thence spreads her black pinion all fearless to sally-
Far over the hills, till she's lost in the sky.
Constant and loud, in their grey rock reposing —
Hoarsely and frequent the young ravens' cry,
When down on the uplands the daylight is closing,
Nor yet with the sunset their parent draws nigh.
From the infinite breast of yon sky she discerneth
The homeless, hot-desert, so calm and so still —
Its basking expanse in the sultry bright noonday —
One long, level plain/without green glen, or hill.
Ah ! how solemn the range of its bleak bounding mountains
Where the wild asses roam in their tameless array ;
Where, so sweetly, they couch by the wave-welling fountains,
While sleeping they wait for break of the day.
There they hear the harsh cry of the driver with pity,
As they snuff the fresh gale and in glad freedom stray,
Far removed from the noise and the roar of the city,
Through their home-hating bondage, wild wending away.
And oftentimes rushes their bright pride rejoicing,
Where heavily loiter the fiercer than they;
From whose eyeballs there glares that dim lustre unkindly
Where fierce instinct glooms with its sullenest ray.
The rude and the tameless, in anger and pleasure,
Like the Reem who ne'er serves as an ox at the stall, —
Whose labour in spring will not add to man's treasure,
Who never starts willing to work at his call.
No; there's no arm can guide yon huge strength in the furrow,
Or make it bear patient the yoke though it gall;
He heeds not the seed-time, — he never will harrow
Thy sweet fruitful valley, or creep by thy wall.
As tameless us he, but far swifter and brighter,
And, clad all in beauty, what's this that goes by?