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The Isles of Loch Awe and Other Poems of my Youth

With Sixteen Illustrations. By Philip Gilbert Hamerton

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12

Once the Island of the Blest,
Then the stronghold of a chief,
Then upon its ruin-crest
Water-eagles built their nest;
Now the sea-gulls cry for grief.
There are fables full of truth;
Fraoch's tale is sadly true!
For how many in their youth,
Bitten by the serpent's tooth,
Die, or only live to rue!
Weeds are rank about the roots
Of ash-trees in the castle hall,
Where Fraoch plucked enchanted fruits
On the tangled bramble shoots,
Withered leaves in autumn fall.