Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE HIGHLANDER'S RETURN, by DAVID MACBETH MOIR


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE HIGHLANDER'S RETURN, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Young donald bane, the gallant celt, unto the wars had gone
Last Line: To the healths of lovely mhairi, and her faithful donald bane?
Alternate Author Name(s): Delta
Subject(s): Highlands Of Scotland; Homecoming


I.

YOUNG Donald Bane, the gallant Celt, unto the wars had gone,
And left within her Highland home his plighted love alone;
Yet though the waves between them roll'd, on eastern Egypt's shore,
As he thought of Mhairi Macintyre, his love grew more and more.

II.

It was a sullen morning when he breathed his last adieu,
And down the glen, above his men, the chieftain's banner flew;
When bonnets waved aloft in air, and war-pipes scream'd aloud,
And the startled eagle left the cliff for shelter in the cloud.

III.

Brave Donald Bane, at duty's call, hath sought a foreign strand,
And Donald Bane amid the slain hath stood with crimson brand;
And when the Alexandrian beach with Gallic blood was dyed,
Stream'd the tartan plaid of Donald Bane at Abercromby's side.

IV.

And he had seen the Pyramids, Grand Cairo, and the bay
Of Aboukir, whereon the fleet of gallant Nelson lay;
And he had seen the Turkish hosts in their barbarian pride,
And listen'd as from burial fields the midnight chacal cried.

V.

Yes, many a sight had Donald seen in Syrian deserts lone,
To many a shore had Donald been, but none that matched his own;
Amid the dates and pomegranates, the temples and the towers,
He thought of Albyn's cliffy huts, begirt with heather flowers.

VI.

So joyous beat the soldier's heart again from deck to see,
Rising from out the German wave, the island of the free;
And stately was his step when crowds, with plaudits from the main,
Welcom'd once more to Britain's shore its heroes back again!

VII.

Hush'd was the war din that in wrath from coast to coast had roar'd,
And stay'd were slaughter's beagle fangs, and sheath'd the patriot's sword,
When—'twas the pleasant summer time—arose in green again,
His own dear Highland mountains on the sight of Donald Bane.

VIII.

Four years had lapsed in absence, wherein his steps had ranged
'Mid many a far and foreign scene, but his heart was unestranged;
And when he saw Argyle's red deer once more from thicket flee,
And again he trod Glen Etive's sod, a mountaineer was he!

IX.

There stood the shieling of his love, beneath the sheltering trees,
Sweet sang the lark, the summer air was musical with bees;
And when he reach'd the wicket porch, old Stumah fawning fain,
First nosed him round, then licked his hand—'twas bliss to Donald Bane.

X.

His heart throbb'd as he entered—no sound was stirring there,—
And in he went, and on he went, when behold his Mhairi fair!
Before her stood the household wheel unmurmurous, and the thread
Still in her fingers lay, as when its tenuous twine she led.

XI.

He stood and gazed, a man half crazed: before him she reclined
In half unkerchief'd loveliness—the idol of his mind;
Bland was the sleep of innocence, as to her dreams were given
Elysian walks with him she loved, amid the bowers of Heaven!

XII.

He gazed her beauties o'er and o'er—her shining auburn hair,
Her ivory brow, her rosebud mouth, her cheek carnation fair;
Her round white arms, her bosom's charms, that, with her breathing low,
Like swan-plumes on a ripply lake heaved softly to and fro.

XIII.

He could no more—but, stooping down, he clasp'd her to his soul,
And from the honey of her lips a rapturous kiss he stole:
As hill-deer bound from bugle sound, swerved Mhairi from her rest,
It could not be—O, yes, 'tis he!—and she sank on Donald's breast.

XlV.

What boots to tell what them befel?—or how, in bridal mirth,
Blithe feet did bound to music's sound, beside the mountain hearth,
Or how the festal cup was drain'd on hill-side and on plain,
To the healths of lovely Mhairi, and her faithful Donald Bane?





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