Classic Poem

At the ocean's sound my mood is forlorn — time was that such was not my wont to hear,
But the great shrill-voiced pipe, all music surpassing when Patrick's fingers stirred it.
Woe to him who giveth his trust to the world: often hath it changed its perilous step;
More varied its course than the drops of dew on a morning in May's beginning;
Never under the sun have I beheld him to whom it gave not his day of trouble.
Bear this greeting from me to the hall of wine-cups, haunt of kinsmen in distress;
To the dwelling that is not scanty, over yonder beneath the slope, where is the joy and the theme of my melody.
Sir Norman of my love, one of Olgar's race art thou, stately from of old thy custom.
Thou treasure beloved, this was ever thy wont: a wide house liberal and welcoming.
For many a day poet-bands would gather towards the homestead whereunto friends would fare.
Lo, I have seen the day when bright shone thy cheek, under the gold-yellow ringlets of thy head;
A man straight, strong, and mighty, full righteous of conduct, without ill-mood or slavish step;
Of the race of rarest quality of all that are in the bounds around, the righteous sons of full-great Roderick.
There is no virtue that befits a king's son, there is no valour or prowess, but my dear one's person is full thereof;
In might and in vigour, in understanding and renown in liberality and modesty of mien;
In valour and prowess, in free-handed generosity, in comeliness and winsome beauty.
In hardihood and in will, in pre-eminence of learning in nobility with no flaw in his nature;
Skilled to judge of harp-playing, the theme of every tale the pith of all natural sense.
Right well that became thee (the style that men gave him), the topmost apple above a tall tree's fruit.
A MacLeod dear to me, of the race that hath won fame; no new dignity for you is this of knighthood.
All knew what you were in the conflicts of a king, when the wars of Charles were vexing us.
Gael or Saxon I defy to show that deceit was found in you, despite all temptations your foes did offer you.
Mighty men of Lochlann came first in your history, a puissant race of Magnus' stock.
God hath bestowed upon thee to be magnificent and wise; Christ grant that thy posterity be prosperous;
From God thou didst receive a dower, a wife most steadfast of sense, sedate, shamefast, and hospitable:
She hath generosity and renown, without blemish about her; she is humble, calm, and friendly:
She without defect under the sun for the pleasuring of companies, and her lineage is worthy a queen.
Often hast thou dispensed a banquet without confusion or pomp; thou daughter of Duntulm's heir, hail to thee.