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

What went ye out for to see?
A rock in the midst of the wave,
Where the north winds bluster and rave,
Caledonia's outermost rim
Kissing the ocean grim,
Skerry, and holm, and stack
Fringed with the foam and the wrack—
This went ye out for to see?
Not in the midst of the wave,
Rocks where the north winds rave,
Caledonia's outermost rim
Kissing the billowy brim,
Skerry, and holm, and stack
Fringed with the foam and the wrack—
Not this went I out for to see;
But the house of the famous John Groat,

147

In the face of the rain and the wind,
With travel and toil I sought;
But seeking I failed to find,
When to Huna I wandered alone.

What went ye out for to see?
Houses all hoary and grey
Washed by the barren sea-spray;
Flagstones and slates in a row,
Where hedges are frightened to grow;
Shrubs in the flap of the breeze,
Sweating to make themselves trees;
This went ye out for to see?
Not houses all hoary and grey
Washed by the barren sea-spray;
Flagstones and slates in a row,
Where hedges are frightened to grow;
Shrubs in the flap of the breeze,
Sweating to make themselves trees;
Not this went I out for to see;
But the house of the famous John Groat,
In the face of the rain and the wind,
With travel and toil I sought;

148

But seeking I failed to find,
When to Huna I wandered alone.

What went ye out for to see?
In face of the billows a beach,
The whitest that Phœbus can bleach,
The beautiful ruin of shells,
Where fishes once lived in their cells,
Now soft and silvery spread,
Like leaves from a flowery bed—
This went ye out for to see?
Not by the billows a beach,
The whitest that Phœbus can bleach,
The beautiful ruin of shells,
Where fishes once lived in their cells,
Now soft and silvery spread,
Like leaves from a flowery bed;
Not this went I out for to see;
But the house of the famous John Groat,
In the face of the wet and the wind,
With travel and toil I sought,
But seeking I failed to find,
When to Huna I wandered alone.

149

What went ye out for to see?
A dance of seabirds on the wing,
Where like down on the zephyr they swing;
The gull with his grey plume spread,
The gullimot dipping his head,
The puffin with snow-white breast,
The long-necked cormorant's crest—
This went ye out for to see?
Not dance of seabirds on the wing,
Where like down on the zephyr they swing;
The gull with his grey plume spread,
The gullimot dipping his head,
The puffin with snow-white breast,
The long-necked cormorant's crest;
Not this went I out for to see;
But the house of the famous John Groat,
In the face of the rain and the wind,
With travel and toil I sought;
But seeking I failed to find,
When to Huna I wandered alone.

What went ye out for to see?
Long ledges of sandy rock

150

With hammer of science to knock,
And redeem into blaze of the light
Strange fishes imprisoned in night,
Millions of billions of ages
Ere Moses indited his pages;
This went ye out for to see?
Not long ledges of rock
With hammer of science to knock,
And redeem into blaze of the light
Strange fishes imprisoned in night,
Millions of billions of ages
Ere Moses indited his pages;
Not this went I out for to see?
But the house of the famous John Groat,
In the face of the rain and the wind,
With travel and toil I sought;
But seeking I failed to find,
When to Huna I wandered alone.

What went ye out for to see?
The rush and the whirl of the tides,
Where the fretted Atlantic rides,
Like a steed with snow-white mane

151

Beating the sounding plain,
Where the ship with tight-drawn sail
Strains to the stress of the gale—
This went ye out for to see?
Not the rush and the whirl of the tides
Where the fretted Atlantic rides
Like a steed with snow-white mane,
Beating the sounding plain,
Where the ship with tight-drawn sail
Strains to the stress of the gale;
Not this went I out for to see;
But the house of the famous John Groat,
In the face of the rain and the wind,
With travel and toil I sought;
But seeking I failed to find,
When to Huna I wandered alone.

What went ye out for to see?
The hull of a mastless bark,
Like the shadow of death in the dark,
Drifting, drifting away,
'Neath the tempest's brazen bray,
Tossed on the horn of the wave,

152

And gulphed in a bubbling grave—
This went ye out for to see?
Not the hull of a mastless bark,
Like the shadow of death in the dark,
Drifting, drifting away,
'Neath the tempest's brazen bray,
Tossed on the horn of the wave,
And gulphed in a bubbling grave;
Not this went I out for to see;
But the house of the famous John Groat,
In the face of the rain and the wind,
With travel and toil I sought;
But seeking I failed to find,
When to Huna I wandered alone.

Now the truth I speak to thee.
Thou hast spent thy toil for nought;
For the house of John de Groat
May on earth no more be found;
Thou must seek it underground
With the Picts who loved to dwell
In the grey and grimy cell.
Yes! my toil I spent for nought,

153

For the house of John de Groat
May on earth no more be found;
I must seek it underground
With the Picts who loved to dwell
In the grey and grimy cell.
Now this truth I plainly see,
Thou hast found me fool of heart
That I sought the house of Groat;
But not empty I depart,
Having fed both eye and ear
With what few men see and hear,
With the lovely and the grand
At the far end of the land,
In green summer glory shown.
So I praise the name of Groat;
Tho' I found not what I sought,
Yet I did the thing I ought
When to Huna I wandered alone.

154

WICK: THE HERRING FISHERY.

O life, O death, O countless multitude
Of things that are, and things that were before,
Of things that die to build up finer food
For things that live on their disruptured store!
From this grey town a thousand-masted fleet,
Helmed by strong men who tread the earth with pride,
Rides forth in full-sailed pomp, to gather meat
From glancing lives that fret the peopled tide.
Thus Nature from her prostrate ruin rears
Her vanquished head, still victor in the strife,
And through progressive deaths in stately tiers
Mounts to the stage which bears the noblest life,
Where vilest loss transformed to splendid gain
Shines glorious; and no force is spent in vain.