They bore within their breasts the grief That fame can never heal- That deep, unutterable woe Which none save exiles feel.
William Edmondstoune Aytoun (1813 - 1965)
Source: The Island of the Scots
Contributed by: Zaady
Fhairshon swore a feud Against the clan M,Tavish; Marched into their land To murder and to rafish; For he did resolve To extirpate the vipers, With four-and-twenty men And five-and-thirty pipers.
Source: The Massacre of the Macpherson
Nowhere beats the heart so kindly as beneath the tartan plaid!
Source: Charles Edward at Versailles on the Anniversary of Culledon
Do not lift him from the bracken, Leave him lying where he fell- Better bier ye cannot fashion: None beseems him half so well As the bare and broken heather, And the hard and trampled sod, Whence his angry soul ascended To the judgment seat of God!
Source: The Widow of Glencoe
Fhairshon had a son, Who married Noah's daughter, And nearly spoiled to Flood, By trinking up ta water: Which he would have done, I at least believe it, Had the mixture peen Only half Glenlivet.
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