Blair Collection > Celtic magazine > Volume 2

go The CELTIC MAGA^tKE.
Down black moss-hags gashed and miry,
Up great corries, torrent-scrawled ;
Till aU faint with toil and travel,
As around the watch-fires wane.
In the first grey of the dawning
Yonder summit we attain, —
Southern waU of long Glen Dessaray,
Mamnyn-CaUum — that round hill —
There, like hares far-hunted, squatting
Close we kept all day and stiU ;
Eyeing the red-coats beneath us,
How like wasps they swarm and spread
From their camp within the meadow.
Pitched beside Loch-Arkaig-head.
Though so near, Glenpean bade the
Prince take rest, and nothing dread.
For yestreen all Mamnyn-Calluni
Thoy had searched from base to head.
VIII.
Sundown over Scour-na-ciecha,
Forth we creep from out our lair.
Just as the watch-fires rekindling
Leap up through the gloamin' air.
On the face of Meal-na-Sparden,
'Neath the sentries close, we keep
Westward, down yon cliff" descending
To Glen-Lochan-Anach deep.
At the darkest of the night, we
Crossed our own Glen-head, and heard
Eerie voices of the howlets
Hooting from dim Mkm-clach-ard.
Crawling then, up Ault-a-bhealaich,
Just at this spot — waning dim
O'er the mountains of Glengarry —
Ghost-like hung the crescent's rim.
When we turned the bealach, downward
By yon rocky rough burn-head ;
With this right hand, through the darkness
Him, our darling Prince, I led.
I to think that such as I should
Grasp within this hand of mine
Him, the heir of aU these Islands,
Last of Albyn's kingly line I
Think that he was fain to refuge
In yon grim and dripping hold ;
He whose home should hae been a palace,
And his bed a couch of gold !