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 Departed spirits of the !

Ye that at Marathon and Leuctra bled!

Friends of the world! restore your swords to man,

Fight in his sacred cause, and lead the van!

Yet for Sarmatia's tears of blood atone,

And make her arm puissant as your own!

Oh! once again to Freedom's cause return,

! Campbell.

'At bleeting of the wild watch fold

Thus sang my love—'Oh, come with me!

Our bark is on the lake—behold

Our steeds are fastened to the tree.

Come far from Castle-Connor's clans!

Come with thy belted forestere,

And I beside the lake of swans,

Shall hunt for thee the fallow deer;

And build thy hut, and bring thee home

The wild fowl and the honey-comb

And berries from the wood provide,

And play my clarshech by thy side—

Then come, my love!'—How could I stay?

Our nimble stag hounds tracked the way,

And I pursued by moonless skies,

The light of Connocht, Moran's eyes!

And fast and far, before the star

Of day-spring, rushed we through the glade,

And saw at dawn the lofty bawn

Of Castle-Connor fade.

Sweet was to us the hermitage

Of this unploughed, untrodden shore;

Like birds all joyou from the cage.

For man's neglect we loved it more!