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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=529227" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Lochiel's Warning</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wizard. - Lochiel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Wizard.<br>- Lochiel! Lochiel, beware of the day<br>When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array!<br>For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight,<br>And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight:<br>They rally, they bleed, for their kingdom and crown;<br>Woe, woe to the riders that trample them down!<br>Proud Cumberland prances, insulting the slain,<br>And their hoof-beaten bosoms are trod to the plain.<br>But hark! through the fast-flashing lightning of war,<br>What steed to the desert flies frantic and far?<br>'Tis thine, Oh Glenullin! whose bride shall await, <br>Like a love-lighted watch-fire, all night at the gate.<br>A steed comes at morning: no rider is there;<br>But its bridle is rd with the sign of despair.<br>Weep, Albin! to death and captivity led!<br>Oh weep! but thy tears cannot number the dead:<br>For a merciless sword on Culloden shall wave, <br>Culloden! that reeks with the blood of the brave.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Lochiel.<br>- Go, preach to the coward, thou death-telling seer!<br>Or, if gory Culloden so dreadful appear,<br>Draw, dotard, around thy old wavering sight!<br>This mantle, to cover the phantoms of fright.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Wizard.<br>- Ha! laugh'st thou, Lochiel, my vision to scorn?<br>Proud bird of the mountain, thy plume shall be torn! <br>Say, rushed the bold eagle exultingly forth,<br>From his home, in the dark rolling clouds of the north?<br>Lo! the death-shot of foemen outspeeding, he rode<br>Companionless, bearing destruction abroad;<br>But down let him stoop from his havoc on high! <br>Ah! home let him speed - for the spoiler is nigh.<br>Why flames the far summit? Why shoot to the blast<br>Those embers, like stars from the firmament cast?<br>'Tis the fire-shower of ruin, all dreadfully driven<br>From his eyry, that beacons the darkness of heaven.<br>Oh, crested Lochiel! the peerless in might,<br>Whose banners arise on the battlement's height,<br>Heaven's fire is around thee, to blast and to burn;<br>Return to thy dwelling! all lonely return!<br>For the blackness of ashes shall mark where it stood,<br>And a wild mother scream o'er her famishing brood.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Lochiel.<br>- False wizard, avaunt! I have marshalled my clan:<br>Their swords are a thousand, their bosoms are one!<br>They are true to the last of their blood and their breath,<br>And like reapers descend to the harvest of death.<br>Then welcome be Cumberland's steed to the shock!<br>Let him dash his proud foam like a wave on the rock!<br>But woe to his kindred, and woe to his cause,<br>When Albin her claymore indignantly draws:<br>When her bonnetted chieftains to victory crowd,<br>Clanranald the dauntless, and Moray the proud;<br>All plaided and plumed in their tartan array - </div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Wizard.<br>- Lochiel, Lochiel, beware of the day!<br>For, dark and despairing, my sight I may seal,<br>But man cannot cover what God would reveal:<br>'Tis the sunset of life gives me mystical lore,<br>And coming events cast their shadow before.<br>I tell thee, Culloden's dread echoes shall ring<br>With the bloodhounds, that bark for thy fugitive king.<br>Lo! annointed by Heaven with the vials of wrath,<br>Behold; where he flies on his desolate path!<br>Now, in darkness and billows, he sweeps from my sight:<br>Rise! rise! ye wild tempests, and cover his flight!<br>'Tis finished. Their thunders are hushed on the moors;<br>Culloden is lost, and my country deplores;<br>But where is the iron-bound prisoner? Where? <br>For the red eye of battle is shut in despair.<br>Say, mounts he the ocean-wave, banished, forlorn,<br>Like a limb from his country cast bleeding and torn?<br>Ah, no! for a darker departure is near;<br>The war-drum is muffled, and black is the bier;<br>His death-bell is tolling; oh! mercy, dispel<br>Yon sight, that it freezes my spirit to tell!<br>Life flutters convulsed in his quivering limbs,<br>And his blood-streaming nostril in agony swims.<br>Accursed be the fagots that blaze at his feet,<br>Where his heart shall be thrown, ere it ceases to beat,<br>With the smoke of its ashes to poison the gale -</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Lochiel.<br>- Down, soothless insulter! I trust not the tale:<br>Though my perishing ranks should be strewed in their gore,<br>Like ocean-weeds heaped on the surf-beaten shore, <br>Lochiel, untainted by flight or by chains,<br>While the kindling of life in his bosom remains, <br>Shall victor exult, or in death be laid low,<br>With his back to the field, and his feet to the foe!<br>And leaving in battle no blot on his name,<br>Look proudly to heaven from the death-bed of fame.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Thomas+Campbell">Thomas Campbell</a><div class=q>
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Wizard.
- Lochiel! Lochiel, beware of the day
When the Lowlands shall meet thee in battle array!
For a field of the dead rushes red on my sight,
And the clans of Culloden are scattered in fight:
They rally, they bleed, for thei..."></div>
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