James Hogg

* * *

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!”