Poem by Isabel Pagan

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Tune—I'll Mak Ye Be Fain to Follow Me

There came a bold hero of late from the west,
Unto the moorlands where he thought the pouts best;
And as on the road he did chance for to see
A pout and pursued it to the Lumagee.

When at Bellapath he had a fine chance,
Being of a stout heart, he did boldly advance,
His powder was quick, and the shot he let flee,
Tho' he could kill nothing at the Lumagee.

But discretion oblig'd him her meal pock to bear,
Expecting new favour, put him in good cheer;
He could not enjoy that which made him turn back,
To hunt thro' the planting at night in the dark.

He is a brave shooter wherever he goes,
He loses much powder, tho' not with his foes;
If he wants ammunition, if a pout he does see,
He will surely remember the old Lumagee.

1. Now Once a Young Man Courted Me
2. Aughlen Spring
3. The Laird of Glenlee
4. To End Youthful Sporting It Has Been My Fortune
5. The Duke of Gordon's Fencibles

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