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

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