Poem by James Payn

The Watch-Tower of Duniquoich

FAIR hill that sittest crowned serene
  Above thy thickset beechen bower,
What sights from out that crest of green,
  That rugged steep, that ruined tower,
In the old time hast thou not seen?

The long blue loch in summer pride
  Now breaks its wave against the quay,
And whitens round the peaceful side
  Of yawl and yacht, and bears to sea
The steam-ships against wind and tide.

But thou hast seen the foray planned,
  And moonlight upon dirk and shield
In curvéd galleys grimly manned,
  And heard the shrill-voiced mountains yield
The war-note from the farther strand.

Around thy base the fertile leas
  On Airey’s banks are thick with kine,
Secure beneath the stately trees
  In avenue and arch and line
Whose voice is but the voice of bees.

And there the clans for battle dight
  Held wassail deep, and raised the cry
When those upon thy sentried height
  Proclaimed the plaided foemen nigh,
And flashed thy beacon through the night.

Adown Ben Büi’s clefts they come,
  Friends to the Stuart and red Montrose,
Their slogan mute, their pibroch dumb;
  Glen Shirer gives its thickets close,
And all the snow-crowned heights are numb

That, peak by peak, would each be lord
  Around the Dhuloch’s icy marge:
In vain; for thanks to thee the ford
  Is banked by many a gleaming targe;—
The Campbells waiting with the sword!

1. Inverary
2. Grisedale Beck
3. The Backs
4. Lake-Land
5. Wordsworth’s Grave

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