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Monday, March 21, 2016

GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON 1788-1824


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LOCHNAGAR

Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses, 
In you let the minions of luxury rove, 
Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake reposes, 
Though still they are sacred to freedom and love. 
Yet Caledonia, belov'd are thy mountains, 
Round their white summits tho' elements war, 
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountains, 
I sigh for the valley of dark Lochnagar.

Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd, 
My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was the plaid. 
On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd 
As daily I strode thro' the pine-cover'd glade. 
I sought not my home till the day's dying glory 
Gave place to the rays of the bright Polar star, 
For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story, 
Disclos'd by the natives of dark Lochnagar!

Years have roll'd on, Lochnagar, since I left you! 
Years must elapse ere I tread you again. 
Though nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you, 
Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain. 
England, thy beauties are tame and domestic 
To one who has roamed over mountains afar 
Oh! for the crags that are wild and majestic, 
The steep frowning glories of dark Lochnagar.

The poet was brought up in Aberdeenshire and, although he left Aberdeen Grammar School for Harrow at the age of ten, he never forgot his Scottish roots. Lochnagar is a steep, mountain ridge with four distinct peaks above a loch with the same name situated in the Cairngorms in Aberdeenshire.
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