II.

Breathes there the man who having read All that the Northern Bard has said, All the particulars supplied By travellers’ tomes and Murray’s Guide, Of Scotia’s landscapes fair and grand, Longs not to see that favour’d land? Oh, would that _I_ could get the chance To view those regions of romance, What pleasure to be climbing now Ben Dizzy’s stern and lofty brow! How sweet to stand beside the Frith That owes its waters to Loch Smith, To mark Bel-hangar’s ruin’d pile, And Ion-munga’s charmed isle, Whilst in the distance can be seen The giant peaks of Ben Zoleen,[35] And, if the weather be not dull, The fragrant isle of Sneeshin-Mull; And, floating like a mirage there, That phantom ship, the “_Brig_ of _Ayr_” Sails where Loch Toddy’s smile creates A beauty that intoxicates. Then view, my fancy, if thou wilt, Knights tourneying within Glen-_Tilt_, Hear Roderick Dhu and brave Fitz-James Calling each other dreadful names, And see them chase, through bosky dells The _hart_ that “in the Highlands” dwells. Oh, if some friend would pay my fare, How “like a bird” I’d wander there!