ANALYSIS OF ALBANIA.
The poem commences with an invocation of Albania, the Genius of Scotland—Allusion to Dunedin and the Border land, places under the peculiar guardian ship of the goddess—Berwick, Man, and the English border, places no longer under her influence—The country invincible—The favourite of the sun, whose beams linger all the night on her mountains—Beloved of the ocean, who rolls his finny shoals to her coasts—The whale—Different species of fishes that frequent the coasts of Scotland—The seal—The salmon—The production of salt from the sea—Coal—Sources of patriotic pride—The Scotish fair—The land free from robbers—from wild beasts—from venomous reptiles—Different kinds of birds which abound in Scotland—Rabbits of Shetland—Deer—Invisible deer-hunting.—The poem concludes with an address to Albania, and a characteristic enumeration of the Isles of Columba, first subdued by the Scots.
ALBANIA;
A POEM.
O loved Albania! hardy nurse of men!
Holding thy silver cross, I worship thee,
On this thy old and solemn festival,
Early, ere yet the wakeful cock has crowed.
Hear! goddess, hear! that on the beryl flood,
Enthroned of old, amid the waters sound,
Reign'st far and wide, o'er many a sea-girt spot,
Oh smile! whether on high Dunedin, thou
Guardest the steep and iron bolted rock,
Where trusted lie the monarchy's last gems, 10
The sceptre, sword, and crown, that graced the brows,
Since father Fergus, of an hundred kings:
Or if, along the well contested ground,
The warlike Border-land, thou marchest proud;
In Teviotdale, where many a shepherd dwells,
By lovely-winding Tweed, or Cheviot brown:
Nor ween I now, in Durham's lofty spire
To seek thee, though thy loved St. David's work;
Nor where Newcastle opes her jetty mines
Of coal; nor in strong Berwick; nor in Man, 20
That never dreaded plague; nor in the wilds
Of stony Westmoreland: All once thy own.
Hail, land of bow-men! seed of those who scorned
To stoop the neck to wide imperial Rome.
O dearest half of Albion sea-walled!
Hail! state unconquered by the fire of war,
Red war, that twenty ages round thee burned;
To thee, for whom my purest raptures glow,
Kneeling with filial homage, I devote
My life, my strength, my first and latest song. 30
Shall I forget thy tenderness? Shall I
Thy bounty, thy parental cares forget,
Hissing with viper's tongue? Who born of thee,
Now twice twelve years, have drawn thy vital air,
And eat thy fruit, protected with thy sons:
Though stronger far, and holier is the tie,
By which are knit my heart-strings to thy love:
Thou gav'st me, yet an infant unbaptised,
Immortal wealth, the seeds of better life.
Thou goddess! by the softening sun beloved, 40
Rejoicest, he with unfulfilled desire,
Delights not only on thy face to dwell,
In amorous smile, the live-long summer's day;
But looking back from the Atlantic brine,
Eyes thy glad slumbers with reflected beam,
And glitters o'er thy head the clear night long.
Of thee enamoured is the rugged deep,
Though barren elsewhere deemed; yet here to thee
Lavish of gifts, and many a lover's boon;
Fruitful through all the seasons, wet and dry, 50
And infinite in ever-growing store.
With herrings countless swarms thy western bays
He loads; they in such myriads throng the sides
Of Arran high, and Lews where lakes abound,
That oft the net breaks overcharged, and oft
The fisher, wanton, after plenteous draught,
Grown wild of wealth, into the roaring tide
Throws back, for days more hard, the lesser fry.
To these republics small, the tyrant whale,
Full of his brutal might, is still a foe. 60
Not that most bulky kind, in Greenland caught,
But smaller, such as oft in Seafort bay,
And Shetland many-creeked, the cod alarms.
High from his trunk, a river shot upright;
Plays dreadful, bellowing loud, and foaming fast.
Yet him all daring men in boats besiege,
And tire with far launched blows, though struggling fierce;
Till, worsted now, and bleeding, he resigns
His ivory, oil, and amber, erst devoured.
How different he! that, of enormous size, 70
Lords o'er the coast of Ross, gigantic king!
Behold at high noon, glorying in his strength,
He rides the dreadful deep, in search of prey.
While young and old, with dint of idle steel
Incessant, vie his hugeness to assail:
In vain he, though with numbers thus beset,
Defies the circling rage of little men;
Yet short his glory! for, whom now no strength,
No wicked wit of men combined, can daunt;
Him, soon mere casual winds, and tempests wild 80
Shall daunt, and hurry to inglorious death,
Dashing on rocks, while from his riven skull
White spermaceti issues, fat and strong:
And now thrown out, before his foes he lies
Dead on the shore, extended far and wide,
Yet frights, even laid so low, the astonished crowd.
But with such monsters, Nature not throughout
Has scared our efforts, and embroiled the deep;
Instead of that, our industry she tempts,
Presenting easier prey, and sweeter food. 90
And hence the loving sea thy eastern coast
Supplies with oysters soft, and lobsters red;
And turbot, far requested for his white
And mellow flesh, sea-pheasant often named;
And bearded cod, and yellow ling. Nor now
Can I rehearse the kinds of mackerel streaked,
Omen of dearth, if too abundant found.
Nor angel-fish, viviparous, and broad,
Hung up in air, and seasoned with the wind;
Nor perch, whose head is spangled red and blue, 100
Foreboding woeful wars, as fishers ween;
Nor ravenous seal, that suckleth on the shore
Her hairy young, unawed by eye of man;
Her snorting oft, at sun-set, on the coast
Of Angus, fruitful land of vital grain,
The wanton damsel mocks, and children join
Insultant, to provoke with rustic names:
Sudden awak'd, she starts, with uncouth gait
Gleaning their steps, and now with either hand,
Gathers, and throws full fast stone after stone; 110
Blind with revenge, nor mindful of her end,
Though near; for now her neck the hissing ball
Hath pierc'd, from well-aimed musket shot unseen.
In vain, alas! thou homeward hastest back;
Mad to have risked thy life with artful man,
On land, to the strange element, where now
Thou agonising liest a monument
For others not to dare their sphere beyond:
While children, from their flight returning, gaze
And wonder at the shaggy monster's form. 120
But now the thronging peasants share the flesh,
From which, for nightly lamps, they drain the oil;
Though utmost Thule's long liv'd sons reserve,
For winter meals, such unluxurious fare.
Thus, Caledonia! thee rich ocean courts,
Presenting his most useful gifts to thee;
But thou secure, a land of yellow grain,
Grain! which bleak Norway wooes with all her firs;
And inly full of glory overprized,
The main sea rough and hoar, disdainest coy; 130
Unenvied, while the Belgian still purloins
The treasures vowed to thee, and of thy sloth
Full glad, in many a pitchy keel, bears off
To distant shores, these more than orient pearls;
Nor nauseates lucre's scent, from fishy steam.
Why wilt thou thus, too lofty heroine!
Shrink from the clasping ocean's fond embrace;
For thee he feeds the salmon silver-scal'd,
Which you, into his watery pastures wide,
Each autumn send to graze; though slim, and gaunt, 140
They enter his domains, yet soon restored,
The whitest fat their entrails overwraps.
But they, impatient of their happiness,
Returning, such strong love of native soil
Attracts them to thy silver channelled streams;
Jump the steep wave of Spey's careering flood:
Strait, watchful fishers spread the meshy snare
That floats with many a cork, and mars their play,
Whole shoals involving, that now thick, and fierce,
Beat the green bank, indignant of their fate. 150
In salt embalmed, they thence are carried far
O'er the green sea, of lordly messes prime,
To cheer the six week fast of Spanish peers:
Or into France, the sprightly land of wine,
To give the goblet more exalted soul.
Neglect not thou the sea, that yields thee salt,
Salt, origin of tastes, with which we eat
The well-fed ox, and bread by labour earned:
Thence too the coal its nitrous spirit draws;
Coal, such as dug from firry Elphingston, 160
Or Winton's level land, that smiles with wheat,
Brings back bright ore, reward of industry;
Or such as in Montrose, fair harboured town,
They burn; or in Alectum lofty domed;
And dims, Edina, thy aspiring brow;
No other fuel craveth Glasgow blue;
Watery Linlithgow's royal seat, or Perth,
Whose evening bells the roving Highlander
Hears sweet, though far descending Stenton hill:
Nor Fife well peopled in her sea-towns tiled. 170
Such also we in high Devana burn,
Glancing on marble hearth; the oily jet
Crackling full fast, makes mild the bitter air
With sulphured steam, and thaws with grateful warmth
The frozen pilgrim, while the glowing grate
Doubles the heat, and gay the enlivened hall
Laughs wide, illumined with the pleasing gleam.
How glory I in thee, O native land!
Well pleased in all thy rivers, and thy hills,
O'er which I travel fearless, though alone, 180
And though unarmed, by robber unassailed.
Chief will I glory in thy generous sons,
Pride of the martial and the lettered world;
And in thy fair-limbed daughters, o'er whose cheek
Breathes blooming nature, sprightly beauties breathe;
Of azure mild their eye; the sighing loves
But just disclose the roses of their lips:
White as the driven snow their polished teeth;
Their parted bosom, with luxuriant youth
Heaves wild; and full proportion crowns the whole: 190
Nor more adorned in body, than in mind;
Of taste refined; of graceful manners plain;
Of warm unspotted faith, and feeling heart;
Whom household cares delight, the best of mates.
No lion here the traveller assails
With midnight roar; nor ruthless panther gnars;
Here prowl no wolves, and here the tusky boars
Razed out of all thy woods, as trophies hung,
Grin high emblazoned on thy childrens shields.
But trusty household guardians, mastiffs fell, 200
Nightly to watch the walls, throughout abound;
Stout terriers, that in high-hilled Sutherland
Beat up the wild-cat's lodge, and badgers rouse;
And russet blood-hounds, wont, near Annand's stream,
To trace the sly thief with avenging foot,
Close as an evil conscience, still at hand;
Fleet grayhounds that outrun the fearful hare;
And many a dog beside, of faithful scent,
To snuff the prey, on eager heel, to scour
The purple heath, and snap the flying game. 210
Here no tarantula exerts its charm;
No serpent in the farthest desart dwells;
Deep in the heath, here harmless adders skulk,
Wound up in glistering rings; and, poisonless,
The cunning spider clambers up the wall.
The lakes and mountains swarm with copious game;
The wildgoose gray, and heathcock hairy legg'd,
White soland, that on Bass and Ailsa build;
The woodcock slender billed, and marshy snipe,
The free-bred duck, that scorns the wiles of men, 220
Soaring beyond the thunder of the gun;
Yet oft her crafty fellow, trained to guile,
And forging love, decoys her to the snare,
There witnesses her fate, with shameless brow.
Why should I here the fruitful pigeon name,
Or long-necked heron, dread of nimble eels,
The glossy swan, that loaths to look a-down,
Or the close covey vexed with various woes?
While sad, they sit their anxious mother round,
With dismal shade the closing net descends; 230
Or, by the sudden gun, they fluttering fall,
And vile with blood, is stained their freckled down.
In Shetland's grassy holms, the mining tribe
Skulking, is there well pleased to breathe obscure,
Regardless they of what low bustling men
Concert in clamorous camp, or palace high;
But what avails their unambitious care,
If the fierce ferret spies the vaulted cell,
And rushes headlong in to seize the prey?
At once the subterraneous state alarmed 240
Shrieks out all over, whither shall they fly?
Caught in their inmost chambers, where they slept
Vainly secure. The assassin fiery eyed,
Winding up all their mazes, through and through,
Spreads desolation o'er the feeble race.
Here need I name the wind-outstripping roe?
Or branchy-horned hart, that strays unowned
In woody Ross, or Athol, nurse of hinds;
Behold! in utmost wilderness he wons,
Far off from men, content with humble fare. 250
Ere since of old, the haughty thanes of Ross,
So to the simple swain tradition tells;
Were wont with clans, and ready vassals thronged,
To wake the bounding stag, or guilty wolf,
There oft is heard at midnight, or at noon,
Beginning faint, but rising still more loud
And nearer, voice of hunters, and of hounds,
And horns hoarse winded, blowing far and keen;
Forthwith the hubbub multiplies, the gale
Labours with wilder shrieks, and riser din 260
Of hot pursuit, the broken cry of deer
Mangled by throttling dogs, the shouts of men,
And hoofs thick beating on the hollow hill.
Sudden the grazing heifer in the vale
Starts at the noise, and both the herdsman's ears
Tingle with inward dread. Aghast he eyes
The mountains height, and all the ridges round,
Yet not one trace of living wight discerns;
Nor knows, o'erawed, and trembling as he stands,
To what, or whom, he owes his idle fear, 270
To ghost, to witch, to fairy, or to fiend,
But wonders, and no end of wondering finds.
Albania dear, attend! behold I seek
Thy angel night and day with eager feet,
On peopled coast, and western mountain lone,
In city paved, and well-aired village thatched,
From end to end of Scotland many-mined.
Oft too I dare the deep, though winter storms
Rage fierce, and round me mad Corbrecho roar,
Wafted with love to see Columba's isles. 280
There view I winged Sky, and Lewes long,
Resort of whales; and Wyste, where herrings swarm;
And talk, at once delighted and appalled,
By the pale moon, with utmost Hirta's seers,
Of beckoning ghosts, and shadowy men, that bode
Sure death. Nor there doth Jura's double hill
Escape my sight; nor Mull, though bald and bare;
Nor Ilay, where erewhile Macdonalds reign'd;
Thee too, Lismore! I hail St. Moloch's shrine;
Inchgall, first conquered by the brand of Scots: 290
And filled with awe of ancient saints and kings,
I kiss, O Icolmkill! thy hallowed mould.
Thus, Caledonia, many hilled! to thee,
End and beginning of my ardent song,
I tune the Druid's lyre, to thee devote
This lay, and love not music but for thee.
Holding thy silver cross, I worship thee,
On this thy old and solemn festival,
Early, ere yet the wakeful cock has crowed.
Hear! goddess, hear! that on the beryl flood,
Enthroned of old, amid the waters sound,
Reign'st far and wide, o'er many a sea-girt spot,
Oh smile! whether on high Dunedin, thou
Guardest the steep and iron bolted rock,
Where trusted lie the monarchy's last gems, 10
The sceptre, sword, and crown, that graced the brows,
Since father Fergus, of an hundred kings:
Or if, along the well contested ground,
The warlike Border-land, thou marchest proud;
In Teviotdale, where many a shepherd dwells,
By lovely-winding Tweed, or Cheviot brown:
Nor ween I now, in Durham's lofty spire
To seek thee, though thy loved St. David's work;
Nor where Newcastle opes her jetty mines
Of coal; nor in strong Berwick; nor in Man, 20
That never dreaded plague; nor in the wilds
Of stony Westmoreland: All once thy own.
Hail, land of bow-men! seed of those who scorned
To stoop the neck to wide imperial Rome.
O dearest half of Albion sea-walled!
Hail! state unconquered by the fire of war,
Red war, that twenty ages round thee burned;
To thee, for whom my purest raptures glow,
Kneeling with filial homage, I devote
My life, my strength, my first and latest song. 30
Shall I forget thy tenderness? Shall I
Thy bounty, thy parental cares forget,
Hissing with viper's tongue? Who born of thee,
Now twice twelve years, have drawn thy vital air,
And eat thy fruit, protected with thy sons:
Though stronger far, and holier is the tie,
By which are knit my heart-strings to thy love:
Thou gav'st me, yet an infant unbaptised,
Immortal wealth, the seeds of better life.
Thou goddess! by the softening sun beloved, 40
Rejoicest, he with unfulfilled desire,
Delights not only on thy face to dwell,
In amorous smile, the live-long summer's day;
But looking back from the Atlantic brine,
Eyes thy glad slumbers with reflected beam,
And glitters o'er thy head the clear night long.
Of thee enamoured is the rugged deep,
Though barren elsewhere deemed; yet here to thee
Lavish of gifts, and many a lover's boon;
Fruitful through all the seasons, wet and dry, 50
And infinite in ever-growing store.
With herrings countless swarms thy western bays
He loads; they in such myriads throng the sides
Of Arran high, and Lews where lakes abound,
That oft the net breaks overcharged, and oft
The fisher, wanton, after plenteous draught,
Grown wild of wealth, into the roaring tide
Throws back, for days more hard, the lesser fry.
To these republics small, the tyrant whale,
Full of his brutal might, is still a foe. 60
Not that most bulky kind, in Greenland caught,
But smaller, such as oft in Seafort bay,
And Shetland many-creeked, the cod alarms.
High from his trunk, a river shot upright;
Plays dreadful, bellowing loud, and foaming fast.
Yet him all daring men in boats besiege,
And tire with far launched blows, though struggling fierce;
Till, worsted now, and bleeding, he resigns
His ivory, oil, and amber, erst devoured.
How different he! that, of enormous size, 70
Lords o'er the coast of Ross, gigantic king!
Behold at high noon, glorying in his strength,
He rides the dreadful deep, in search of prey.
While young and old, with dint of idle steel
Incessant, vie his hugeness to assail:
In vain he, though with numbers thus beset,
Defies the circling rage of little men;
Yet short his glory! for, whom now no strength,
No wicked wit of men combined, can daunt;
Him, soon mere casual winds, and tempests wild 80
Shall daunt, and hurry to inglorious death,
Dashing on rocks, while from his riven skull
White spermaceti issues, fat and strong:
And now thrown out, before his foes he lies
Dead on the shore, extended far and wide,
Yet frights, even laid so low, the astonished crowd.
But with such monsters, Nature not throughout
Has scared our efforts, and embroiled the deep;
Instead of that, our industry she tempts,
Presenting easier prey, and sweeter food. 90
And hence the loving sea thy eastern coast
Supplies with oysters soft, and lobsters red;
And turbot, far requested for his white
And mellow flesh, sea-pheasant often named;
And bearded cod, and yellow ling. Nor now
Can I rehearse the kinds of mackerel streaked,
Omen of dearth, if too abundant found.
Nor angel-fish, viviparous, and broad,
Hung up in air, and seasoned with the wind;
Nor perch, whose head is spangled red and blue, 100
Foreboding woeful wars, as fishers ween;
Nor ravenous seal, that suckleth on the shore
Her hairy young, unawed by eye of man;
Her snorting oft, at sun-set, on the coast
Of Angus, fruitful land of vital grain,
The wanton damsel mocks, and children join
Insultant, to provoke with rustic names:
Sudden awak'd, she starts, with uncouth gait
Gleaning their steps, and now with either hand,
Gathers, and throws full fast stone after stone; 110
Blind with revenge, nor mindful of her end,
Though near; for now her neck the hissing ball
Hath pierc'd, from well-aimed musket shot unseen.
In vain, alas! thou homeward hastest back;
Mad to have risked thy life with artful man,
On land, to the strange element, where now
Thou agonising liest a monument
For others not to dare their sphere beyond:
While children, from their flight returning, gaze
And wonder at the shaggy monster's form. 120
But now the thronging peasants share the flesh,
From which, for nightly lamps, they drain the oil;
Though utmost Thule's long liv'd sons reserve,
For winter meals, such unluxurious fare.
Thus, Caledonia! thee rich ocean courts,
Presenting his most useful gifts to thee;
But thou secure, a land of yellow grain,
Grain! which bleak Norway wooes with all her firs;
And inly full of glory overprized,
The main sea rough and hoar, disdainest coy; 130
Unenvied, while the Belgian still purloins
The treasures vowed to thee, and of thy sloth
Full glad, in many a pitchy keel, bears off
To distant shores, these more than orient pearls;
Nor nauseates lucre's scent, from fishy steam.
Why wilt thou thus, too lofty heroine!
Shrink from the clasping ocean's fond embrace;
For thee he feeds the salmon silver-scal'd,
Which you, into his watery pastures wide,
Each autumn send to graze; though slim, and gaunt, 140
They enter his domains, yet soon restored,
The whitest fat their entrails overwraps.
But they, impatient of their happiness,
Returning, such strong love of native soil
Attracts them to thy silver channelled streams;
Jump the steep wave of Spey's careering flood:
Strait, watchful fishers spread the meshy snare
That floats with many a cork, and mars their play,
Whole shoals involving, that now thick, and fierce,
Beat the green bank, indignant of their fate. 150
In salt embalmed, they thence are carried far
O'er the green sea, of lordly messes prime,
To cheer the six week fast of Spanish peers:
Or into France, the sprightly land of wine,
To give the goblet more exalted soul.
Neglect not thou the sea, that yields thee salt,
Salt, origin of tastes, with which we eat
The well-fed ox, and bread by labour earned:
Thence too the coal its nitrous spirit draws;
Coal, such as dug from firry Elphingston, 160
Or Winton's level land, that smiles with wheat,
Brings back bright ore, reward of industry;
Or such as in Montrose, fair harboured town,
They burn; or in Alectum lofty domed;
And dims, Edina, thy aspiring brow;
No other fuel craveth Glasgow blue;
Watery Linlithgow's royal seat, or Perth,
Whose evening bells the roving Highlander
Hears sweet, though far descending Stenton hill:
Nor Fife well peopled in her sea-towns tiled. 170
Such also we in high Devana burn,
Glancing on marble hearth; the oily jet
Crackling full fast, makes mild the bitter air
With sulphured steam, and thaws with grateful warmth
The frozen pilgrim, while the glowing grate
Doubles the heat, and gay the enlivened hall
Laughs wide, illumined with the pleasing gleam.
How glory I in thee, O native land!
Well pleased in all thy rivers, and thy hills,
O'er which I travel fearless, though alone, 180
And though unarmed, by robber unassailed.
Chief will I glory in thy generous sons,
Pride of the martial and the lettered world;
And in thy fair-limbed daughters, o'er whose cheek
Breathes blooming nature, sprightly beauties breathe;
Of azure mild their eye; the sighing loves
But just disclose the roses of their lips:
White as the driven snow their polished teeth;
Their parted bosom, with luxuriant youth
Heaves wild; and full proportion crowns the whole: 190
Nor more adorned in body, than in mind;
Of taste refined; of graceful manners plain;
Of warm unspotted faith, and feeling heart;
Whom household cares delight, the best of mates.
No lion here the traveller assails
With midnight roar; nor ruthless panther gnars;
Here prowl no wolves, and here the tusky boars
Razed out of all thy woods, as trophies hung,
Grin high emblazoned on thy childrens shields.
But trusty household guardians, mastiffs fell, 200
Nightly to watch the walls, throughout abound;
Stout terriers, that in high-hilled Sutherland
Beat up the wild-cat's lodge, and badgers rouse;
And russet blood-hounds, wont, near Annand's stream,
To trace the sly thief with avenging foot,
Close as an evil conscience, still at hand;
Fleet grayhounds that outrun the fearful hare;
And many a dog beside, of faithful scent,
To snuff the prey, on eager heel, to scour
The purple heath, and snap the flying game. 210
Here no tarantula exerts its charm;
No serpent in the farthest desart dwells;
Deep in the heath, here harmless adders skulk,
Wound up in glistering rings; and, poisonless,
The cunning spider clambers up the wall.
The lakes and mountains swarm with copious game;
The wildgoose gray, and heathcock hairy legg'd,
White soland, that on Bass and Ailsa build;
The woodcock slender billed, and marshy snipe,
The free-bred duck, that scorns the wiles of men, 220
Soaring beyond the thunder of the gun;
Yet oft her crafty fellow, trained to guile,
And forging love, decoys her to the snare,
There witnesses her fate, with shameless brow.
Why should I here the fruitful pigeon name,
Or long-necked heron, dread of nimble eels,
The glossy swan, that loaths to look a-down,
Or the close covey vexed with various woes?
While sad, they sit their anxious mother round,
With dismal shade the closing net descends; 230
Or, by the sudden gun, they fluttering fall,
And vile with blood, is stained their freckled down.
In Shetland's grassy holms, the mining tribe
Skulking, is there well pleased to breathe obscure,
Regardless they of what low bustling men
Concert in clamorous camp, or palace high;
But what avails their unambitious care,
If the fierce ferret spies the vaulted cell,
And rushes headlong in to seize the prey?
At once the subterraneous state alarmed 240
Shrieks out all over, whither shall they fly?
Caught in their inmost chambers, where they slept
Vainly secure. The assassin fiery eyed,
Winding up all their mazes, through and through,
Spreads desolation o'er the feeble race.
Here need I name the wind-outstripping roe?
Or branchy-horned hart, that strays unowned
In woody Ross, or Athol, nurse of hinds;
Behold! in utmost wilderness he wons,
Far off from men, content with humble fare. 250
Ere since of old, the haughty thanes of Ross,
So to the simple swain tradition tells;
Were wont with clans, and ready vassals thronged,
To wake the bounding stag, or guilty wolf,
There oft is heard at midnight, or at noon,
Beginning faint, but rising still more loud
And nearer, voice of hunters, and of hounds,
And horns hoarse winded, blowing far and keen;
Forthwith the hubbub multiplies, the gale
Labours with wilder shrieks, and riser din 260
Of hot pursuit, the broken cry of deer
Mangled by throttling dogs, the shouts of men,
And hoofs thick beating on the hollow hill.
Sudden the grazing heifer in the vale
Starts at the noise, and both the herdsman's ears
Tingle with inward dread. Aghast he eyes
The mountains height, and all the ridges round,
Yet not one trace of living wight discerns;
Nor knows, o'erawed, and trembling as he stands,
To what, or whom, he owes his idle fear, 270
To ghost, to witch, to fairy, or to fiend,
But wonders, and no end of wondering finds.
Albania dear, attend! behold I seek
Thy angel night and day with eager feet,
On peopled coast, and western mountain lone,
In city paved, and well-aired village thatched,
From end to end of Scotland many-mined.
Oft too I dare the deep, though winter storms
Rage fierce, and round me mad Corbrecho roar,
Wafted with love to see Columba's isles. 280
There view I winged Sky, and Lewes long,
Resort of whales; and Wyste, where herrings swarm;
And talk, at once delighted and appalled,
By the pale moon, with utmost Hirta's seers,
Of beckoning ghosts, and shadowy men, that bode
Sure death. Nor there doth Jura's double hill
Escape my sight; nor Mull, though bald and bare;
Nor Ilay, where erewhile Macdonalds reign'd;
Thee too, Lismore! I hail St. Moloch's shrine;
Inchgall, first conquered by the brand of Scots: 290
And filled with awe of ancient saints and kings,
I kiss, O Icolmkill! thy hallowed mould.
Thus, Caledonia, many hilled! to thee,
End and beginning of my ardent song,
I tune the Druid's lyre, to thee devote
This lay, and love not music but for thee.