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Lays of the Highlands and Islands

By John Stuart Blackie

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KINLOCH MOIDART.
  
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122

KINLOCH MOIDART.

I.

And this is Moidart! in this extreme nook
The Stuart landed, and the Pope has friends,
And the old Faith that swears by church and book,
Stands stiffly here, and neither breaks nor bends;
Like some hoar father of a scattered race,
Vagrants of East and West, a homeless crew,
He only holds the old familiar place,
And the men know him now who always knew.
Not wise is he who vents an angry breath,
'Gainst souls that hang by Europe's hoary creed,
And, for his legs are sound, deals wanton scaith
On the old crutch that helps the limper's speed;
We all must cling to something in our need,
Else helmless tossed through darkness into death.