Fair as the earliest beam of eastern light When first, by the bewildered pilgrim spied It smiles upon the dreary brow of night And silvers o'er the torrent's foaming tide And lights the fearful path on mountain-side Fair as that beam, although the fairest far Giving to horror grace, to danger pride Shine martial faith, and courtesy's bright star Through all the wreckful storms That cloud the brow of war
Verse
That early beam, so fair and sheen Was twinkling through the hazel screen When, rousing at its glimmer red The warriors left their lowly bed
Looked out upon the dappled sky Muttered their soldier matins try And then awaked their fire, to steal As short and rude, their soldier meal
Awake!
That o'er, the gael around him threw His graceful plaid of varied hue And, true to promise, led the way By thicket green and mountain gray
The ghosts of culloden!
A wildering path! they winded now Along the precipice's brow Commanding the rich scenes beneath The windings of the forth and teith And all the vales between that lie Till stirling's turrets melt in sky Then, sunk in copse, their farthest glance Gained not the length of horseman's lance
Awake!
That o'er, the gael around him threw His graceful plaid of varied hue And, true to promise, led the way By thicket green and mountain gray
The ghosts of culloden
[interpretation of the poem The lady of the lake, by sir walter scott]