XII.

Of these, and there was many a willing pair, Neuha[387] and Torquil were not the least fair: Both children of the isles, though distant far; Both born beneath a sea-presiding star; Both nourished amidst Nature's native scenes, Loved to the last, whatever intervenes Between us and our Childhood's sympathy, Which still reverts to what first caught the eye. He who first met the Highlands' swelling blue 280 Will love each peak that shows a kindred hue, Hail in each crag a friend's familiar face, And clasp the mountain in his Mind's embrace. Long have I roamed through lands which are not mine, Adored the Alp, and loved the Apennine, Revered Parnassus, and beheld the steep Jove's Ida and Olympus crown the deep: But 'twas not all long ages' lore, nor all _Their_ nature held me in their thrilling thrall; The infant rapture still survived the boy, 290 And Loch-na-gar with Ida looked o'er Troy,[388] Mixed Celtic memories with the Phrygian mount, And Highland linns with Castalie's clear fount. Forgive me, Homer's universal shade! Forgive me, Ph[oe]bus! that my fancy strayed; The North and Nature taught me to adore Your scenes sublime, from those beloved before.