Poem by Walter Scott

Pharos Loquitur

Far in the bosom of the deep,
O'er these wild shelves my watch I keep;
A ruddy gem of changeful light,
Bound on the dusky brow of night,
The seaman bids my lustre hail,
And scorns to strike his timorous sail.

1. The Monks of Bangor’s March
2. On Ettrick Forest’s Mountains Dun
3. The Maid of Isla
4. On the Massacre of Glencoe
5. Lines Addressed to Ranald Macdonald, Esq., of Staffa

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