11
'Come Back! come back!' he cried in grief,
'Across this stormy water:
And I'll forgive your Highland chief,
My daughter!—Oh! my daughter!'
Twas vain! the loud waves lash'd the shore,
Return or aid preventing:
The waters wild went o'er his child—
And he was left lamenting. Campbell.
———
The Fate of Macgregor.
'Macgregor, Macgregor, remember our foemen,
The moon rises broad from the brow of Ben-Lomond,
The clans are impatient, and chide thy delay:
Arise! let us bound to Glen-Lyon away.'
Stern scowl'd the Macgregor, then silent and sullen,
He turn'd his red eye to the braes of Strathfillan;
'Go, Malcolm, to sleep, let the clans be dismiss'd
The Campbells this night for Macgregor must rest.'
'Macgregor, Macgregor, our scouts have been flying,
Three days, round the hills of M'Nab and GlenLyon;
Of riding and running such tidings they bear,
We must meet them at home else they'll quickly be here.'
