Thomas Campbell: Все стихи поэта

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Wizard. — Lochiel.

Wizard.

— Lochiel! Lochiel, beware of the day

When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array!

For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight,

And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight:

They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown;

A chieftain, to the Highlands bound,

Cries, "Boatman, do not tarry!

And I'll give thee a silver pound,

To row us o'er the ferry."-

"Now who be ye, would cross Lochgyle

This dark and stormy water?"

"O, I'm the chief of Ulva's isle,

And this Lord Ullin's daughter.-