from Lochaber for Ever

In all thy moods I love thee,
In sunshine and in storm;
Lochaber of the towering bens,
Outlined in rugged form.
Here proud Ben Nevis, snowy crowned,
Rests throned amidst the clouds;
There Lochy’s deep and silvery wave,
A royal city shrouds;
Whose waters witnessed the escape
Of coward Campbell’s dastard shape,
Disgrace eternal reap:
Whilst fair glen Nevis’ rocks resound,
With “Pibroch Donald Dubh” renowned,
From Inverlochy’s keep.
Grey ruined walls, in latter years,
That saw the great Montrose,
MacDonell’s, Cameron’s men led forth,
To victory ‘gainst their foes.
Oh! Lochaber, dear Lochaber,
The rich red afterglow
Of fame that rests upon thy shield,
Unbroken records show.
“O, Lochabair, mo Lochabair fhein gu bràth.” …

In all thy moods I love thee,
But I think I love thee best,
When the moon is rising slowly
Behind Beinn Chlinaig’s crest;
To list the plaintive owlet calling,
When the woods are very still,
The gentle plash of waters falling,
Ringing, rhyming, down the hill;
So rich with flowers the river braes,
Whose honeyed perfume scents the ways,
Sweet lingering on the air.
Wild purple bloom the heather shows,
O’er hanging rocks the rowan grows,
Where scarce a foot may dare:
Enough it is among thy braes,
To dream, to breath, to live;
With the soul’s repose of trustfulness,
Whate’er the future give;
Across the hazy distance,
Thy children look and long,
For thy spell is found resistless,
And their hearts beat true and strong.
“O, Lochabair, mo Lochabair fhein gu bràth.”

(“O, Lochaber, my own Lochaber for ever.”)