IX 



The moorland and the mountain's side, 

 Where numerous packs of grouse abide* 

 Soon as the harvest rites are paid, 

 And safely stor'd its grain convey'd, 

 Our true bred pointers to the mead, 

 Or thick set stubble must succeed ; 

 Where (many coveys brooding round) 

 Eager they snuff the tainted ground ; 

 And catch the gales that may convey 

 Unto their scent the destin'd prey. 

 With spaniels let us next repair. 

 And make the woodland haunts our care. 

 Whilst pheasants mount on whirring wings, 

 And from his copse the woodcock springs. 



Now the widS forest's lengthened shade. 

 Blithe goddess, let our steps pervade, 

 And thence the Grampian hills survey, 

 Renown'd in many an ancient lay ; 

 Whilst feudal chiefs for empire sought, 

 And for the deers' dominion fought ; 

 When seldom faiPd the bugle horn 

 To rouse with valorous deeds the morn : 

 In happier days where peace resorts 

 And Athol courts thee to his sports. 



Then to the uplands guide us on, 

 Or outstretched wolds where glory won, 



