Classic Poem

" Man! " said he, " come in and dine wi' me —
For old time's sake — come in.
The sicht o' you brings memories back;
The like to forget would be sin!

Och, man! I 'm glad aye yet to be here —
With a chief like yourself — alive!
Tho' the days be short and the years fly swift:
The devil be in 't but we 'll strive! —

Strive, with the pride of a Highlander yet,
To the sound of the wild Piob Mhor —
Strive for the glory that clings to our race,
Tho' the song be " Lochaber no more,"

I was down this day and the shadows were thick,
Now I live in the licht o' yer een! —
Ten years I fling off at the swing of yer kilt —
My God! — the days I have seen.

Do ye mind yon nicht o' " The Forty-five "?
When the men sat fast in a dream;
For a vision was there of the PRINCE and his host
Brocht tears to my eyes in a stream: —

The last and the best of the heroes of old! —
I still think I see them arrayed:
The glory of tartans; the sound of the pipes;
The glint of the broad Highland blade .

But away, away! — they are gone like a mist! —
Even ghosts seek the glens no more.
I linger, I know, with a dream in my heart,
On the brink of the lang four score .

But man, come and dine; for a bottle of wine
The best that the place can give —
The blood-red best that they have — you'll get;
For I 'm glad this hour that I live! "