Mary Maxwell Campbell (Мэри Максвелл Кэмпбелл)

Lament for Glencoe

YE loyal Macdonalds, awaken! awaken!
  Why sleep ye so soundly in face of the foe?
The clouds pass away, and the morning is breaking;
  But when will awaken the Sons of Glencoe?
They lay down to rest with their thoughts on the morrow,
  Nor dreamt that life’s visions were melting like snow;
But daylight has dawned in the silence of sorrow,
  And ne’er shall awaken the Sons of Glencoe.
O, dark was the moment that brought to our shealing
  The black-hearted foe with his treacherous smile.
We gave him our food with a brother’s own feeling;
  For then we believed there was truth in Argyle.
The winds howl a warning, the red lightning flashes,
  We heap up our fagots a welcome to show;
But traitors are brooding on death near the ashes
  Now cold on the hearths of the Sons of Glencoe.
My clansmen, strike boldly,—let none of ye count on
  The mercy of cowards who wrought us such woe;
The wail of their spirits, when heard on the mountain,
  Must surely awaken the Sons of Glencoe.
Ah! cruel as adders, ye stung them while sleeping;
  But vengeance shall track ye wherever ye go.
Our loved ones lie murdered; no sorrow nor weeping
  Shall ever awaken the Sons of Glencoe.

Распечатать (Print)

Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1238

Последние стихотворения

To English version