' 'T is well advised,--the Chieftain's plan Bespeaks the father of his clan.
But wherefore sleeps Sir Roderick Dhu Apart from all his followers true? '
'It is because last evening-tide Brian an augury hath tried, Of that dread kind which must not be Unless in dread extremity, The Taghairm called; by which, afar, Our sires foresaw the events of war.
Duncraggan's milk-white bull they slew,'--
Malise.
'Ah! well the gallant brute I knew!
The choicest of the prey we had When swept our merrymen Gallangad.
His hide was snow, his horns were dark, His red eye glowed like fiery spark;So fierce, so tameless, and so fleet, Sore did he cumber our retreat, And kept our stoutest kerns in awe, Even at the pass of Beal 'maha.
But steep and flinty was the road, And sharp the hurrying pikeman's goad, And when we came to Dennan's Row A child might scathless stroke his brow.'
