THE LAMENT OF TASSO THE PROPHECY OF DANTE MANFRED: A Dramatic Poem 6 From MARINO FALIERO': Act V, Scene III. POEMS LACHIN Y GAIR AWAY, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses! Round their white summits though elements war; Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains, I sigh for the valley of dark Loch na Garr. Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid ; On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd, As daily I strode through the pine-cover'd glade; I sought not my home till the day's dying glory Gave place to the rays of the bright polar star; For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr. "Shades of the dead have I not heard your voices Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale?" Surely the soul of the hero rejoices, ; And rides on the wind, o'er his own Highland vale. Round Loch na Garr while the stormy mist gathers, Winter presides in his cold icy car: Clouds there encircle the forms of my fathers; They dwell in the tempests of dark Loch na Garr. "Ill-starr'd, though brave, did no visions foreboding Tell you that fate had forsaken your cause?" Ah! were you destined to die at Culloden, Victory crown'd not your fall with applause : B II 19 Still were you happy in death's earthly slumber, You rest with your clan in the caves of Braemar ; The pibroch resounds, to the piper's loud number, 31 Your deeds on the echoes of dark Loch na Garr. Years have roll'd on, Loch na Garr, since I left you, Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain. To one who has roved o'er the mountains afar: Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic ! The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr. 40 WELL! THOU ART HAPPY WELL! thou art happy, and I feel Thy husband's blest-and 'twill impart When late I saw thy favourite child, I kiss'd it,—and repress'd my sighs Mary, adieu! I must away: While thou art blest I'll not repine; ΤΟ But near thee I can never stay; My heart would soon again be thine. 20 |