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VOICES FROM THE OLD WORLD: THE FAMINE OF 1847.
A voice from out the Highlands,
Old Scotia's mountain homes!
From wild burn-side, and darksome glen,
And towering steep, it comes!
Is it the shout of huntsmen bold,
Who chase the antlered stag,
Who sound the horn and cheer the hound,
And leap from crag to crag?
Is it the call of rising clans,
The cry of gathering men?
Pours Freedom's rocky fortress forth
Its Gaelic hordes again?
Throng round the Scottish chieftains
Such hosts as, long ago,
Old Scotia's mountain homes!
From wild burn-side, and darksome glen,
And towering steep, it comes!
Is it the shout of huntsmen bold,
Who chase the antlered stag,
Who sound the horn and cheer the hound,
And leap from crag to crag?
Is it the call of rising clans,
The cry of gathering men?
Pours Freedom's rocky fortress forth
Its Gaelic hordes again?
Throng round the Scottish chieftains
Such hosts as, long ago,
