Poem by Anonymous

The Tummel and the Duck

PAST runs the sunlit Tummel, strong from his wilds above,
Blue as the deepest cobalt, shot like the neck of a dove;
He is fresh from the Moor of Rannoch, he has drained Loch Ericht dread,
And imaged in Carle’s waters Ben y Houlach’s stately head.
He has mourned by the graves of the Struans hid in the night of the wood,
And laughed past the pleasant slope where our old Dunalister stood.
Schihallion has heard him chafing down by his sunless steep,
And has watched the child of the mountains deep in his Loch asleep.
He ’s awake and down by the Bonskeid, he has leapt his falls with glee,
He has married the Garry below, and they linger in Faskally;
Then off by Moulin of Earn, and down to our Duck and me.

1. Gathering of Atholl
2. The Banks o’ Glaizart
3. The Aisle of Tombs
4. Sir Richard Whittington’s Advancement
5. The Cave of Pope

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