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Keppoch song

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«anto I, A KEPPOCH SONG. 23
The Danes successive on do come,
Far o'er her plains now they do roam :
Hibernia, struggling with the toils,
Looks around — no fortune smiles;
Her Celtic son she now thinks on ;
Heraldic bards her fate bemoan.
Onward to me their course they tend,
And in Artornish hall they bend.
A parli'ment of my clans I call *,
In my castle I greet them all :
We feast, we quaff, and, with the song
Of heroes fall'n, the night prolong.
Hibernia's bards at length arise,
With grief-s wol'n cheeks, and downcast eyes,
Sadly solemn, their harps they take,
And thus to me their plaint they make:
" Great Fiugal, mighty chief renown'd,
To whom all health and bliss abound,
Be pleas'd to hear Hibernia's tale,
And let her griefs on thee prevail ;
The Danes have landed on her coast,
And of her ravag'd plains they boast;
Death and destruction mark their way,
Our sons and daughters they do slay;

* Statistical Account pf North Knapdale and Hay.

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