The Goodman of Boisdale's House-Blessing
God bless the tower most beautiful to which I came at fall of night, a short distance from the site where was the chieftain who was a welcoming host for guests,
Where was the hero, where was the champion, where was the excellent captain above thousands, where was the man whose peer was scarce to be found within these bounds.
'Tis the great excellent son of Clanranald who gained fame and not ill-fame; (?) 'twas not (merely) districts (native to his race) that bestowed upon him praise which was widely spread through every kingdom.
... Notwithstanding how much they all said, he did not receive the honour he deserved.
God bless the famous tower of pleasant prospect, 'tis Colin's tower, a tower that is namely throughout every land, a tower at the landing-place of Barra's Sound.
The tower of the poet-bands is the hospitable tower, the tower where one is satisfied without stinting, the melodious tower wherein is splendour, wine and beer unbought on tables.
Tower of fortune, famed and munificent, where poor men leave their blessing, tower of joy wherein is honour, whoever should praise it as it deserved.
Fair and blithe is sun gleam on it at time of rising on a spring morning, joy of mind it is to landsmen, a night lantern to seamen.
A place of guidance to one in straits at time of setting course for harbour; it makes a beam like the diamond — candle-light and a glass window.
Right good of slating, right good of liming, right good the handiwork on its wall, right well is its pine-wood jointed — for furnishings it takes pre-eminence.
The best house among the Gaels — what man is there better than Colin? — a comely, seemly, godly man, a credit to his great-grandson and a credit to his grandfather.
The house and the man match each other, as Edmund got the white-crested horse. God keep thee from strength of foe, strength of fire, and strength of sea.
God keep the one who built it in long life and in (?) his fine family traditions; may he and his seed after him continue in success — that is my wish.
Where was the hero, where was the champion, where was the excellent captain above thousands, where was the man whose peer was scarce to be found within these bounds.
'Tis the great excellent son of Clanranald who gained fame and not ill-fame; (?) 'twas not (merely) districts (native to his race) that bestowed upon him praise which was widely spread through every kingdom.
... Notwithstanding how much they all said, he did not receive the honour he deserved.
God bless the famous tower of pleasant prospect, 'tis Colin's tower, a tower that is namely throughout every land, a tower at the landing-place of Barra's Sound.
The tower of the poet-bands is the hospitable tower, the tower where one is satisfied without stinting, the melodious tower wherein is splendour, wine and beer unbought on tables.
Tower of fortune, famed and munificent, where poor men leave their blessing, tower of joy wherein is honour, whoever should praise it as it deserved.
Fair and blithe is sun gleam on it at time of rising on a spring morning, joy of mind it is to landsmen, a night lantern to seamen.
A place of guidance to one in straits at time of setting course for harbour; it makes a beam like the diamond — candle-light and a glass window.
Right good of slating, right good of liming, right good the handiwork on its wall, right well is its pine-wood jointed — for furnishings it takes pre-eminence.
The best house among the Gaels — what man is there better than Colin? — a comely, seemly, godly man, a credit to his great-grandson and a credit to his grandfather.
The house and the man match each other, as Edmund got the white-crested horse. God keep thee from strength of foe, strength of fire, and strength of sea.
God keep the one who built it in long life and in (?) his fine family traditions; may he and his seed after him continue in success — that is my wish.
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