And silence settled wide and still On the lone wood and mighty hill.
Less loud the sounds of silvan war Disturbed the heights of Uam-Var, And roused the cavern where, 'tis told, A giant made his den of old; For ere that steep ascent was won, High in his pathway hung the sun, And many a gallant, stayed perforce, Was fain to breathe his faltering horse, And of the trackers of the deer Scarce half the lessening pack was near; So shrewdly on the mountain-side Had the bold burst their mettle tried.
The noble stag was pausing now Upon the mountain's southern brow, Where broad extended, far beneath, The varied realms of fair Menteith. With anxious eye he wandered o'er Mountain and meadow, moss and moor, And pondered refuge from his toil By far Lochard or Aberfoyle. But nearer was the copsewood grey That waved and wept on Loch-Achray, And mingled with the pine-trees blue On the bold cliffs of Benvenuc. Fresh vigour with the hope returned, With flying foot the heath he spurned, Held wcst'vard with unwearied race, And left behind the panting chase.
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