310 THE SPIRIT OF GLENCROE. 



Once more this thrilling call I heard, 



As far I climbed the misty hill ; 

 Then past me flew a little bird, 



With that same note, so wild and shrill ! 



Spirit I deemed it long, and still, 

 With its white breast and airy form, 



It sat like spirit of the hill, 



Above the cloud, and mist, and storm ! 



There is a stone which marks Glencroe, 

 To weary travellers known the best ; 



It bids them, ere they farther go, 

 Tarry a-while by Lochan Rest. 



Hast thou no message, herald lone, 



Perched on thy lofty turret brow 1 

 " Rest and be thankful," says the stone, 

 Bird of the rocks ! what sayest thou ? 



" Rest to the weary rest for men 



Through earth's dark pass worn wand'rers they- 

 Rest is the Spirit of our Glen, 

 But ah ! that rest lies far away ! 



" 'Tis far away, 'tis far away ! 



Above my watch-tower lift your eyes ; 

 Rest, weary wand'rers, rest ye may, 

 But rest not till you reach the skies ! 



