History of the Clan MacLean from its first settlement at Duard Castle, in the Isle of Mull, to the present period

420
Appendix.
the military glories of the chieftain. The translator
original." Sir Walter Scott, the great novelist and poe
ford, in 1832. The following is taken from his Poetical
A weary month has wandered o'er
Since last we parted on the shore;
Heaven ! that I saw thee, Love, once more,
Safe on that shore again !
'Twas valiant Lachlan gave the word:
Lachlan, of many a galley lord:
He called his kindred bands on board,
And launch'd them on the main.
Clan Gillian is to ocean gone,
Clan Gillian, fierce in foray known ;
Rejoicing in the glory won
In many a bloody broil:
has endeavored to imitate the abrupt style of the
t, was born in Edinburgh, in 1771; died at Abbots-
Works.]
For wide is heard the thundering fray,
The rout, the ruin, the dismay,
When from the twilight glens away
Clan Gillian drives the spoil.
Woe to the hills that shall rebound
Our banner'd bag-pipes maddening sound;
Clan Gillian's onset echoing round,
Shall shake their inmost cell.
Woe to the bark whose crew shall gaze.
Where Lachlan's silken streamer plays I
The fools might face the lightning's blaze
As wisely and as well !
No. 12. — Coronach on Sir Lachlan, Chief of MacLean.
Fro.m the Gaelic. By Sib Walter Scott.
[Of this Sir Walter says: "The following is a lamentation literally translated from the Gaelic. The
tune is so popular that it has since become the war-march, or Gathering of the elan." It is a part of
Eaehann Bacach's Elegy on Sir Lachlan MacLean, one of the songs given in Beauties of Gaelic Poetry.
This translation is taken from "The Lady of the Lake."]
Which of all the Senachies
Can trace thy line from the root up to Para-
dise,
But MacVuirih, the son of Fergus?
No sooner had thine ancient stately tree
Taken firm hold in Albion,
Than one of thy forefathers fell at Harlaw.
'Twas then we lost a chief of deathless name.
'Tis no base weed — no planted tree.
Nor a seedling of last Autumn ;
Nor a sapling planted at Beltain;
Wide, wide around were spread its lofty
branches
But the topmost bough is lowly laid !
Thou hast forsaken us before Sawaine.
Thy dwelling is the winter house: —
Loud, sad, sad, and mighty is thy death-song!
Ohl courteous champion of Montrose!
Oh ! stately warrior of the Keltic Isles !
Thou shalt buckle thv harness on no more!
No. 13. — The Lady of Duard's Vengeance.
By Charles MacKay.
egendary incident of the Florida, of the Invincible
[From MacKay's Poetical Works. The poem is a 1
Armada.]
"Weird woman, that dwellest on lofty Ben Mor,
(jive ear to my sorrow, and aid, I implore.
A lady has come from the green sunny bowers
Of a far southern clime, t(j the mountains of ours;
A light in her eyes, but deceit in her heart.
And she lingers, and lingers, and will not depart.
"Through darkness and danger, 'mid tempest and
rain.
She has sail'd to our shores from the vineyards of
Spain,
Forsaking her country, her kindred, her home,
Abroad through onr cold Western Islands to roam,
To find a young lover as fair to her sight
As a vision she saw in the slumbers of night.
"And hither by stars Inauspicious convey'd.
She has come, in her gems and her beauty array'd.
With a tongue full of sweetness — a heart insincere,
And iixed her bright eyes on the chief of MacLean.
To toy with his heart, and bewilder his brain.
"And I, who was once the delight of his soul,
Ere she like a blight on my happiness stole.
Now wander through Duard, neglected and lorn,
Of a stranger the scoff— of my maidens the scorn;
With a grief in my bosom that gnaws at the core.
And a fire in my brain that will burn evermore:
"Unless thou wilt aid me with charm and with
spell.
To gain back the heart I have cherish'd so well.
And rid me of her who with art the most vile
Has poison'd my peace with herglozingandguile —
1 hate her with hatred intense as despair!
Yet murder's a guilt that my soul can not bear."