O, fprung from great Macgilliannore;
The chief that never fear'd a foe,
How matchlefs was thy broad claymore,
How deadly thine unerring bow.

Well can the Saxon* widows tell
How, on the Teith's refounding fhore,
The boldeft Lowland warriors fell,
As down from Lenny's pass you bore.

But in his halls, on feftal day,

How blazed Lord Ronald's beltane † tree
While youths and maids the light ftrathspey
So nimbly danced with Highland glee.

Cheer'd by the ftrength of Ronald's fhell,
E'en age forgot his treffes hoar;—
But now the loud lament we swell,
O ne'er to fee Lord Ronald more t

From diftant ifles a chieftain came,
The joys of Ronald's halls to find,
And chafe with him the dark-brown game
That bounds o'er Albin's hills of wind.

* The term Saffenach, or Saxon, is applied by the Highlanders to their Low-country neighbours.

+ Beltane tree; the fires lighted by the Highlanders on the first of May, in compliance with a custom derived from the Pagan times, are fo called. It is a festival celebrated with various fuperftitious rites, both in the north of Scotland and in Wales.

'Twas

'Twas Moy whom in Columba's ifle
The Seer's prophetic spirit* found,
As with a minitrel's fire the while

He waked his harp's harmonious found.

Full many a spell to him was known,
Which wandering fpirits fhrink to hear,
And many a lay of potent tone

Was never meant for mortal ear.

For there, 'tis faid, in myftic mood
High converse with the dead they hold,
And oft efpy the fated shroud

That shall the future corpfe infold.

O fo it fell, that on a day,

To roufe the red deer from their den,
The chiefs have ta'en their distant way,
And fcour'd the deep Glenfinlas glen.

No vaffals wait their sports to aid,

To watch their fafety, deck their board,

*Seer's spirit. I can only describe the second fight, by adopting Dr. Johnston's definition, who calls it "An impreffion either by the mind upon the eye, or by the eye upon the mind, by which things distant and future are perceived and feen as if they were prefent." To which I would only add, that the spectral appearances thus presented usually prefage misfortune; that the faculty is painful to those who suppose they poffefs it; and that they ufually acquire it while themselves under the preffure of melancholy.

Their fimple dress, the Highland plaid ;
Their trufty guard, the Highland fword.

Three fummer days, through brake and dell,
Their whistling fhafts fuccefsful flew,
And ftill, when dewy evening fell,
The quarry to their hut they drew.

The folitary cabin stood,

Faft by Moneira's fullen brook,

Which murmurs through that lonely wood.

Soft fell the night; the fky was calm,
When three fucceffive days had flown,
And fummer mift, in dewy balm,
Steep'd heathy bank and moffy stone.

The moon, half hid in filvery flakes,
Afar her dubious radiance thed,
Quivering on Katrine's diftant lakes,
And refting on Benledi's head.

Now in their hut, in focial guife,
Their fylvan fare the chiefs enjoy,
And pleasure laughs in Ronald's eyes;
As many a pledge he quaffs to Moy.

What

"What lack we here to crown our blifs, "While thus the pulfe of joy beats high, "What but fair woman's yielding kiss,

"Her panting breath, and melting eye?

"To chafe the deer of yonder shades,
"This morning left their father's pile
"The fairest of our mountain maids,
"The daughters of the proud Glengyle.

66

Long have I fought fweet Mary's heart, "And dropp'd the tear, and heaved the figh; "But vain the lover's wily art,

"Beneath a fifter's watchful eye.

"But thou may'ft teach that guardian fair
"While far with Mary I am flown,

"Of other hearts to ceafe her care,
"And find it hard to guard her own.

"Touch but thy harp, thou foon shalt see
"The lovely Flora of Glengyle,
"Unmindful of her charge, and me,,

Hang on thy notes 'twixt tear and smile.

"Or if the choose a melting tale,

"All underneath the greenwood bough,

*

"Will good St. Oran's rule prevail,

"Stern huntsman of the rigid brow?”.

"Since Enrick's fight, fince Morna's death,
"No more on me fhall rapture rise,
"Refponfive to the panting breath,

"Or yielding kiss, or melting eyes.

"E'en then when o'er the heath of woe,
"Where funk my hopes of love and fame,
"I bade my harp's wild wailings flow,
"On me the Seer's fad spirit came.

"The last dread curfe of angry heaven,
"With ghaftly fights, and founds of woe,
"To dafh each glimpse of joy was given,
"The gift, the future ill to know.

"The bark thou faw'ft yon fummer morn
"So gaily part from Lulan's bay,

66

My eye beheld her dash'd and torn
"Far on the rocky Colensay.

"The Fergus too-thy fifter's fon,

"Thou faw'ft with pride the gallant's power,
"As, marching 'gainst the Laird of Downe,
"He left the skirts of huge Benmore.

St. Oran was a friend and follower of St. Columbus, and was buried in Icolmkill.

"Thou