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Lays of the Highlands and Islands

By John Stuart Blackie

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A SEPTEMBER BLAST IN OBAN.
  
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112

A SEPTEMBER BLAST IN OBAN.

By Heaven! the house is rocking like a ship;
The strong trees bend like osiers, and the sea
Flings long white scourges forth, with truculent glee,
And rides with madded speed high-armed, to whip
The quaking land! O what an altered theme
From yesterday, when in the breezeless glen
The sear leaf dropt, and high on Cruachan Ben
The white cloud rested like a saintly dream.
Such are thy changes, universal Lord,
Fearful to feeble man! but thou art strong,
And Nature still rings forth a jubilant song,
Where thy sure hand doth sweep the varied chord.
Our house may reel; but, as no storm had been,
The big round globe rolls through the blue Serene.