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LOCHIEL'S WARNING.

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LOCHIEL'S WARNING.

WIZARD-LOCHIEL.

WIZARD,

Lochiel! Lochiel, beware of the day

When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array!

For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight,

And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight:

They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown;

Woe, woe to the riders that trample them down!

Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain,
And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain.
But hark! through the fast-flashing lightning of

war,

What steed to the desert flies frantic and far?

'Tis thine, oh Glenullin! whose bride shall await,

Like a love-lighted watch-fire, all night at the gate.

A steed comes at morning: no rider is there;
But its bridle is red with the sign of despair.

Weep, Albin! to death and captivity led!

Oh weep! but thy tears cannot number the dead :

For a merciless sword on Culloden shall wave,

Culloden! that reeks with the blood of the brave.

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