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* * * FAREWELL to Glen-Shalloch, A farewell forever! Farewell to my wee cot, That stands by the river! The fall is loud sounding In voices that vary, And the echoes surrounding Lament with my Mary. I saw her last night, Mid the rocks that enclose them, With a babe at her knee, And a babe at her bosom: I heard her sweet voice In the depth of my slumber, And the song that she sung Was of sorrow and cumber. “Sleep sound, my sweet babe, There is naught to alarm thee; The sons of the valley No power have to harm thee. I ’ll sing thee to rest In the balloch untrodden, With the coronach sad For the slain of Culloden. “The brave were betrayed, And the tyrant is daring To trample and waste us, Unpitying, unsparing. Thy mother no voice has, No feeling that changes, No word, sign, or song, But the lesson of vengeance. “I ’ll tell thee, my son, How our laurels are withering; I ’ll gird on thy sword When the clansmen are gathering; I ’ll bid thee go forth In the cause of true honor, And never return Till thy country hath won her. “Our tower of devotion Is the home of the reaver; The pride of the ocean Is fallen forever; The pine of the forest, That time could not weaken, Is trod in the dust, And its honors are shaken. “Rise, spirits of yore, Ever dauntless in danger! For the land that was yours Is the land of the stranger. O, come from your caverns, All bloodless and hoary, And these fiends of the valley Shall tremble before ye!” James Hogg's other poems: Распечатать (Print) Количество обращений к стихотворению: 1235 |
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