The Master of Stair/Poem
GLENCOE
In the Glen o' Weeping,
The Valley o' Glencoe,
Watch the giant hills are keeping
In their frozen wreaths o' snow.
Tears from out the mists are falling
And the winds forever sigh
To the lonely eagle calling
As he circles through the sky,
With the blood o' the Macdonalds
All red upon his claws,
The blood o' the dead Macdonalds
Who broke the Campbell laws.
Through the Glen o' Weeping,
The Valley o' Glencoe,
Where the blighted trees are sleeping
And black the waters flow,
Where the dead lie in their darkness,
Their frozen hearth beside,
As the day glooms into darkness,
Come the living in their pride
Through the lines o' dead Macdonalds'
Lying naked to the blast,
Through the stern and still Macdonalds
Come the Campbells riding fast.
Now is the Glen o' Weeping
The Valley o' Glencoe,
Bright with light o' swords upleaping
And flashing to and fro;
And gallant is the seeming
Of man and horse together
As with flying harness gleaming
They ride the trampled heather
Through the homes o' the Macdonalds
Who lie defenseless, dumb,
Through the spilt blood o' the Macdonalds
The victor Campbells come.
Now shall the Glen o' Weeping,
The Valley o' Glencoe,
When our noble heirs are reaping
The deeds that now we sow—
Lie desolate, forsaken,
Bleak to the brooding mist,
While we our way have taken,
By winged fortune kissed.
Swept from our path the Macdonalds,
Swept from our path away:
Now out o' the Glen o' Weeping,
Into the light o' day!