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WRITTEN UNDER THE THREAT OF INVASION IN THE AUTUMN OF 1804.1
THE Forest of Glenmore is drear,
It is all of black pine and the dark oak-tree;
The moon looks through the drifting storm,
That mingles with the groaning oak-
And the lake-waves dashing against the rock;There is a voice within the wood,
The voice of the bard in fitful mood;
His song was louder than the blast,
As the bard of Glenmore through the forest past.
"Wake ye from your sleep of death, Minstrels and bards of other days!
For the midnight is on the heath,
And the midnight meteors dimly blaze:
[This poem was first published in the "English Minstrelsy," 2 vols. Edin. 1810.]
The Spectre with his Bloody Hand,'
The owl and the raven are mute for dread,
"Souls of the mighty, wake and say,
To what high strain your harps were strung,
And on your shores her Norsemen flung?
"Mute are ye all? No murmurs strange
Mute are ye now?-Ye ne'er were mute,
"O yet awake the strain to tell,
Who victor died on Aboukir.
'The forest of Glenmore is haunted by a spirit called Lhamdearg, or Red-hand.
"Where the Norwegian invader of Scotland received two bloody defeats.
'The Galgacus of Tacitus.
By all their swords, by all their scars,
The wind is hush'd, and still the lake
Strange murmurs fill my tingling ears,
At the dread voice of other years—
"O, OPEN the door, some pity to show, Keen blows the northern wind!
The glen is white with the drifted snow,
"No outlaw seeks your castle gate,
[This, and the two following, were first published in Haydn's Collection of Scottish Airs, vol. ii. Edin. 1806.]