Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MUSINGS AT TARBERT, LOCHFYNE, by WILLIAM THOMSON MCAUSLANE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MUSINGS AT TARBERT, LOCHFYNE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The sun shines brightly on lochfyne
Last Line: Have given place to net and barge.
Subject(s): Castles; Muses


THE sun shines brightly on Lochfyne,
On Tarbert's castle, old and grey,
As near its ruins I recline,
And all the landscape wide survey;
While thoughts of past years intervene,
And mingle with the present scene.

The land-locked harbour at my feet,
Round which the white-washed village runs,
Is throng'd with skiffs -- the fishing fleet;
Sea-ward the battery points its guns;
And islets small lie here and there,
Like the wild hills encircling, bare.

In garb of blue, with hardy mien,
The fishermen, the shores along,
Mending their nets and boats are seen;
Some sit the scatter'd rocks among;
While servant girls, their washing done,
Spread out their labours to the sun.

East, north, and west, from side to side,
The eye may wander or may rest,
From where fair Bute o'erlooks the Clyde
To far Ben Cruachan's snow-white crest;
Or lovingly may seek repose
On heights the West Loch that enclose.

How sweet, beneath yon mountain's brow,
Where streamlets run and lambkins play,
Where yellow whin and heather grow,
To spend the early summer's day;
Inhale fresh breezes from the hill,
And let the fancy roam at will!

How sweet, remote from haunts of men,
While nature's works around rejoice,
To walk through Rallock's lovely glen,
And list the cuckoo's distant voice;
By Stonefield stroll, whose charms are shared
So freely by a generous laird.

But sounds of bustle from below,
From thoughts like these recall my mind,
Pierward there comes a constant flow --
Men, horses, carriages, combined;
The famed Columba I descry,
And the day's great event is nigh.

Onward the sovereign steamer rides,
Of firth and lake acknowledg'd queen;
Nearer the floating palace glides --
Glasgow in miniature is seen;
Arrived, some passengers she leaves,
And others in return receives.

Northward her course she then renews,
While westward, on the Tarbert road,
The tide of life its way pursues:
Some near the village find abode;
Others for Islay's steamer fast,
Or Campbeltown go driving past.

How changed the time since Bruce the Bold
Dwelt in these halls in kingly pride;
Since, in more recent days of old,
Here clansmen fought and bled and died;
Now the broad claymore and the targe
Have given place to net and barge.





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