 | The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang |  |
111
To Fiona
From the damp shieling on the draggled island
Mountains divide you, and no end of seas.
But, though your heart is genuinely Highland,
Still, you're in luck to be away from these!
Mountains divide you, and no end of seas.
But, though your heart is genuinely Highland,
Still, you're in luck to be away from these!
Far from the mountains where the thirsty crofter
Early and eager registers his vote,
Still drinking harder as the day grows ‘softer’,
Fiona, from these thou art happily remote.
Early and eager registers his vote,
Still drinking harder as the day grows ‘softer’,
Fiona, from these thou art happily remote.
Far from the hostels where the baffled tripper
Watches the window and contemplates the rain;
Far from the drenched decks where the oilskinned skipper
Herds the unhappy clients of Macbrayne.
Watches the window and contemplates the rain;
Far from the drenched decks where the oilskinned skipper
Herds the unhappy clients of Macbrayne.
Far from the caves where unfortunate Prince Charlie
Served as the pasture of the eager midge,
Fiona, methinks that, after dining early,
Thou art enjoying the delights of bridge.
Served as the pasture of the eager midge,
Fiona, methinks that, after dining early,
Thou art enjoying the delights of bridge.
Yes, Fiona dear, the Highlands, from a distance,
Seem a seductive subject for a lay,
But, when it rains with the usual persistence,
Fiona, perhaps you would rather stop away.
Seem a seductive subject for a lay,
But, when it rains with the usual persistence,
Fiona, perhaps you would rather stop away.
| The Poetical Works of Andrew Lang | |