Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine

The following is from Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine:

Lament for Macrimmon

By Delta

Mist wreathes stern Coolin like a cloud,
The water-wraith is shrieking loud,
And blue eyes gush with tears that burn,
For thee--who shall no more return!
  Macrimmon shall no more return,
  Oh never, never more return!
  Earth, wrapt in doomsday flames, shall burn,
  Before Macrimmon home return!

The wild winds wail themselves asleep,
The rills drop tear-like down the steep,
In forest glooms the songsters mourn,
For thee--who shall no more return!
  Macrimmon shall no more return, &c.

Even hoar old Ocean joins our wail,
Nor moves the boat, though bent with sail;
Fierce shrieking gales the breakers churn,
For thee--who shall no more return!
  Macrimmon shall no more return, &c.

No more, at eve, thy harp in hall
Shall from the tower faint echoes call;
There songless circles vainly mourn
For thee--who shall no more return!
  Macrimmon shall no more return, &c.

Thou shalt return not from afar
With wreaths of peace, or spoils of war;
Each breast is but affection's urn
For thee--who shall no more return!
  Macrimmon shall no more return,
  Oh never, never more return!
  Earth, wrapt in doomsday flames, shall burn,
  Before Macrimmon home return!

Lines Written In the Isle of Bute


Copyright Scotland from the Roadside 2016