Loch na Garr

Lord Byron

1788 to 1824

Poem Image
Track 1

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Every 10th word

Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses! 
you let the minions of luxury rove; 
Restore the rocks, where the snow-flake reposes,
Though still they sacred to freedom and love: 
Yet, Caledonia, beloved thy mountains,
Round their white summits though elements war; 
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains,
I sigh the valley of dark Loch na Garr. 

Ah! my young footsteps in infancy wander'd;
My cap was bonnet, my cloak was the plaid; 
On chieftains perish'd my memory ponder'd,
As daily I strode through pine-cover'd glade: 
I sought not my home till day's dying glory
Gave place to the rays of bright polar star; 
For fancy was cheer'd by story,
Disclosed by the natives of dark Loch na Garr. 

"Shades of the dead! have I not heard voices 
Rise on the night-rolling breath of the gale?"
Surely the soul of the hero rejoices,
And on the wind o'er his own Highland vale. 
Loch na Garr while the stormy mist gathers,
Winter in his cold icy car: 
Clouds there encircle forms of my fathers; 
They dwell in the of dark Loch na Garr. 

"Illstarr'd, though brave, no visions foreboding
Tell you that fate had forsaken cause?" 
Ah! were you destined to die Culloden,
Victory crown'd not your fall with applause: 
were you happy in death's earthy slumber,
You rest your clan in the caves of Braemar; 
The resounds, to the piper's loud number,
Your deeds on echoes of dark Loch na Garr. 

Years have roll'd on, Loch na Garr, since I left you,
Years elapse ere I tread you again: 
Nature of and flow'rs has bereft you,
Yet still are you than Albion's plain. 
England! thy beauties are tame domestic
To one who has roved on the mountains afar: 
Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic!
The steep frowning glories of dark Loch na Garr!