 | Lays of the Highlands and Islands
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I.
BEN TEALLADH.
As sits a queen among her maids, so thou,
Ben Tealladh, mid thy cirque of subject hills,
Crowned not with mortal gold, but on thy brow
With deathless verdure fresh from sky-born rills.
Thou fairest vestal of the Western isles,
Hath no bard yet linked thee to famous lays;
And was it left for me to wander miles
And mar thy beauty with imperfect praise?
Come from your dim abodes, all men who pine
In grimy chambers and dark inky dens,
And look, and love this Queen of verdurous Bens!
Trust me, the primal father of our line
Saw no such Ben, from Eden's flowery girth,
To feed his eyes with wonder at his birth.
| Lays of the Highlands and Islands
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