Summer at the Lake of Monteith

1 04 TJie Lake of Montcith.
Rob quick the rustic horn did pass,
And helped himself to flowing glass.
But quick as they did quaff their wine,
As fast did roll unheeded time:
Hour after hour did onward flee,
Until the rustic clock struck three.
Macgregor started from his seat,
And soon the band were on their feet.
His favourite sword did catch his eye,
Before him, as 't did naked lie;
He'd ne'er forgot what passed before,
But now did mind the oath he swore.
He seemed as if in solemn mood —
His kinsmen round in silence stood,
And well each single eye could trace
The cloud upon the chieftain's face.
The brow upon that manly form
Lower'd like the cloud in coming storm,
Which told his mind, and showed his will —
Fierce as the blast that sweeps yon hill.
His heaving breast told but in part
What wild emotions filled his heart.
The former taunts had still their pang;
Deep through his soul their echoes rang —
Rung at his nerves, till hope and pride
Dashed, like a thought, them all aside.
The crowing cock, out in the lawn,
Told Rob that early day did dawn;
The chirping bird, amid the thorn,
With joy did hail the approaching morn;
Ben-Lomond, still though in a cloud,
Did fast throw off the nightly shroud;
The rising mist from off the hill
Showed the curling smoke from smuggler's still ;
The smiling lake, like silver grey —
The shallop on its bosom lay;
The tawny owl no more did roam,
But sought her nest in Inchmahome;
The herons screeched amid the brake;
Sea-gulls flaunted o'er the lake;
The scared duck, or wild drake's quack,
Was heard at distant Arnmauk;