Lays of the Highlands and Islands :: :: University of Virginia Library

Dwellers in the sounding city,
Peoplers of the peaceful glen,
Come with me, the day is pleasant,
I would scale the tway-coned Ben.
Not with fly to lure the salmon,
Where the torrent scoops the glen
Makes me pleasure, but I dearly
Love to climb a peakèd Ben;
Not with shot and mortal vollies
To bring moorcock down, or hen,
Is my glory, but I triumph,
Perched upon a cloud-capt Ben.
Come with me, the day is pleasant,
Soon the mist may veil again

All the glory of the mountains;
Up, and let us scale the Ben!

II.

See her rising proud before you,
In the beauty of the morn,
Queen of all the heights that grandly
Fence the storied land of Lorn;
Land of Campbells and MacDougalls,
Where full many a practised hand,
Nerved with high heroic purpose,
Poised the spear, and waved the brand.
I am ready; profits neither
Dull delay, nor puffing haste;
Let your foot be lightly booted,
Grasp your plaid about your waist;
Fill your pouch with lusty viands;
On the breezy top we dine;
Brim your flask with strength-inspiring
Usquebeatha or fervid wine.

Cross we first the regal-rolling,
Swift, dark-rushing mountain flood,
Sweeping the broad base of Cruachan,
In his untamed lustihood;
Brush we o'er the tufted heather,
Light with nimble unconcern,
Plunge we through the plumy forests
Of the broad and branching fern!
Leap the brook that bounces lightly,
Scale the scaur that gleams so red,
Grasp the rowan tree whose berries
Shine like rubies overhead;
Creep beneath the hoary-frosted
Crag, where crusted lichens spread,
By the dark pool where the troutling
Glances from his stony bed.
But not rashly; hear my counsel;
Though ye be right valiant men,
None can storm by rude assaulting
Such a huge, sheer-sided Ben.

Look about, above, around you,
Map the mountain in your mind,
And with cunning engineering
Surely rise and wisely wind;
As a gunner near and nearer,
With a cool courageous breath,
Round some proud, broad-bastioned fortress,
Draws the circling lines of death.

III.

Ha! look there where right above us
Peers the grey and blasted cone,
Like a jag of high Olympus,
'Neath the dark-browed Thunderer's throne!
Onward through the grim disorder
Of each grey embedded stone,
Ruin, which a thousand winters,
Shivered from the splintered cone!
Here's for tender shins no mercy;
If you stumble, there you lie;
Like a goat be tough and springy,
Like a fox be sure and sly;
Have no flaunting tags about you;

100

By this snouted crag will blow
Oft a sudden whiff will fling you
Like a whirling straw below.
Now, by Heaven! it looks full surly;
From the East the white mists sally,
Sweeping far from lofty Lomond,
Drifting up from fair Dalmally.
Thick and thicker, swift and swifter,
On the blinding rack is borne,
Like a race of Furies driving
Madly with their mantles torn.
Softly, softly! fear no peril
Where we creep from block to block,
Any stiffest blast can only
Nail us stiffer to the rock.
Foot it firmly, o'er the jointed
Frost-split slabs that mark the line
Through the mist, along the edges
Of the black Ben's jaggy spine.
If you turn from this brave venture,
Now you have the broad-browed Ben
By the forelock, I will never
Call you bearded man again!

101

IV.

Now we've done it! here I'm seated,
With light-hearted unconcern,
Sheltered from the rude South-Easter
By the huge Ben's topmost cairn.
Here's my hand! spring up beside me,
Though the way be black and rough,
Take a lesson from your shaggy
Friend, the valiant-hearted Muff.
All along the ledge he followed,
Close with frequent pant and puff,
Running, leaping, scraping, tumbling,
Made of genuine Highland stuff.
Ha! thank heaven! the mist is clearing,
Lo! beneath the curtained cloud,
Gleams in glory of the sunshine
Emerald field, and silver flood!
Northward, at your feet dark Etive
Mildly shines with lucid sheen,
Land of Macintyres behind you
Glistens vivid with the green.
Through the giant gap where downward
Sheer the madded torrent pours,

102

In the weeks of wintry horror,
When the tempest raves and roars.
Southward, like a belt of silver,
Flooded from a thousand rills,
Stretches far Loch Awe the lovely,
Through a land of dark-brown hills.
Eastward, lo! the lofty Lomond
And Balquidder's purple braes,
Land of stout strong-armed MacGregors,
Strangely loom through saffron haze;
Look! O look, that burst of splendour
In the West, that blaze of gold
Tells where round Mull's terraced headlands,
Broad the breasted waves are rolled
At thy base, thou huge-aspiring,
Triple-crested proud Ben More,
Known to Staffa's rock-ribbed temple,
To Iona's hallowed shore.
Speak not here of painted pictures,
Which the hand of man may limn;
All their grandest lines are dwarfish,
All their brightest hues are dim.
Thou alone hast living pictures

103

Mighty Mind that moves the whole,
Pulsing through the vasty splendour
With thine all-informing soul.

V.

Hear me now, stout-footed comrades;
In the scaling of the Ben
We have done our tasking bravely,
With the thews of Scottish men.
We have gazed and we have wondered,
We have mapped the pictured scene;
But we cannot feed on wonder
Where the air is sharp and keen.
Ope your stores, unlock your wallet,
Pour the strength-inspiring wine;
With the granite slab for table,
On the summit here we dine.
If there be who rashly pledged him
To abstain from usquebeatha,
I do grant a free indulgence,
From his chilly vow to day.
Nectar drink in fields Elysian,
But where biting airs have sway,

104

He alone with proof is mailèd,
Who is lined with usquebeatha.
Bravely started! crown your glasses
Now with the untainted flood,
Of this glorious old Oporto,
That makes rich the British blood!
Fill a bumper to Breadalbane,
And the men that hunt the deer;
Let the wise Argyll be honoured,
Mild of heart, of thought severe!
Let his gallant son be toasted,
Lorn, whose lofty love broke down
Walls of ancient harsh partition,
'Twixt the people and the crown;
Let the billow of your pæans
To Dunolly's tower be borne:
Praise the good and gentle lady,
Praise the deedful maid of Lorn!
Praise the land of mist and mountain,
Grassy glen, and purple brae,
Crystal well, and foamy fountain,
Ruddy pine, and birchen spray.
Praise all men who foot it bravely

105

Up the bright and breezy way,
Where Titanic Nature broadens
Out in beautiful display.
Now 'tis finished look how darkly
Mount the rolling mists again;
Here to bide would bribe the ague,
We must turn and gain the glen.
Then fare-thee-well, thou tway-coned Cruachan;
'Mid the busy haunts of men
Thou shalt live a joy for ever
In our hearts, thou queenly Ben!

This word is a good example of how the Scottish Celts take the bones out of their words by elision of medial or final consonants. Beatha is just the Latin vita; and usque, as is well known, is aqua; but the last element of the compound is pronounced as if written pai.

The river Awe, famous for salmon. In the autumn, when I climbed the Ben, John Bright, the famous reformer, was living in the neighbourinn of Taynuilt, lashing the flood with the salmon-rod, and teaching his brain to repose with a wise vacuity.