The Hill of Lochiel

Long have I pined for thee,
Land of my infancy
Now will I kneel on thee,
Hill of Lochiel !
Hill of the sturdy steer,
Hill of the roe and deer,
Hill of the streamlet clear,
I love thee well !

When in my youthful prime,
Correi or crag to climb,
Or tow 'ring cliff sublime,
Was my delight ;
Scaling the eagle's nest,
Wounding the raven's breast,
Skimming the mountain's crest,
Gladsome and light.

Then rose a bolder game, —
Young Charlie Stuart came,
Cameron, that loyal name,
Foremost must be !
Hard then our warrior meed.
Glorious our warrior deed,
Till we were doom'd to bleed
By treachery !

Then did the red blood stream,
Then was the broadsword's gleam
Quench'd ; in fair freedom's beam
No more to shine !
Then was the morning's brow,
Red with the fiery glow ;
Fell hall and hamlet low,
All that were mine.

Far in a hostile land,
Stretch'd on a foreign strand,
Oft has the tear-drop bland
Scorch'd as it fell.
Once was I spurn'd from thee,
Long have I mourn'd for thee,
Now I'm return'd to thee,
Hill of Lochiel !