X. IN THE SOUND OF MULL. [TOURING late in the season in Scotland is an uncertain speculation. We were detained a week by rain at Bunaw on Loch Etive in a vain hope that the weather would clear up and allow me to show my daughter the beauties of Glencoe. Two days we were at the isle of Mull, on a visit to Major Campbell; but it rained incessantly, and we were obliged to give up our intention of going to Staffa. The rain pursued us to Tyndrum, where the Eleventh Sonnet was composed in a storm.] TRADITION, be thou mute! Oblivion, throw Round strath and mountain, stamped by the ancient tongue On rock and ruin darkening as we go,— Spots where a word, ghost-like, survives to show By civil arts and labours of the pen, Could gentleness be scorned by those fierce Men, Yon towering Peaks, Shepherds of Etive Glen* ?' * In Gaelic, Buachaill Eite. ΧΙ. SUGGESTED AT TYNDRUM IN A STORM. ENOUGH of garlands, of the Arcadian crook, Teach what they learn? Up, hardy Mountaineeri Of Nature's privy council, as thou art, On cloud-sequestered heights, that see and hear To what dread Powers He delegates his part On earth, who works in the heaven of heavens, alone. XII. THE EARL OF BREADALBANE'S RUINED MANSION, AND FAMILY BURIAL-PLACE, NEAR KILLIN. WELL sang the Bard who called the grave, in strains Thoughtful and sad, the narrow house.' No style Of fond sepulchral flattery can beguile Grief of her sting; nor cheat, where he detains The sleeping dust, stern Death. How reconcile XIII. 6 REST AND BE THANKFUL!' AT THE HEAD OF GLENOROE. DOUBLING and doubling with laborious walk, And fishes front, unmoved, the torrent's sweep,- SEE what gay XIV. HIGHLAND HUT. wild flowers deck this earth-built Cot, Whose smoke, forth-issuing whence and how it may, Shines in the greeting of the sun's first ray Like wreaths of vapour without stain or blot. And why shouldst thou ?—If rightly trained and bred, Which her Heaven-guided feet refuse to tread. XV. THE HIGHLAND BROACH. On ascending a hill that leads from Loch Awe towards Inverary, I fell into conversation with a woman of the humbler class who wore one of those Highland Broaches. I talked with her about it; and upon parting with her, when I said with a kindness I truly felt "May that Broach continue in your family through many generations to come, as you have already possessed it" -she thanked me most becomingly, and seemed not a little moved.] * See Note. The exact resemblance which the old Broach (still in use, though rarely met with, among the Highlanders) bears to the Roman Fibula must strike every one, and concurs, with the plaid and kilt, to recal to mind the communication which the ancient Romans had with this remote country. IF to Tradition faith be due, And echoes from old verse speak true, No common light of nature blessed Yet peaceful Arts did entrance gain Of fern-thatched hut on heathy moor: |